The Potter's Son
by Enilorac Eiram
Summary: In the town of Akuma, Ayato Naoi plays the begrudging apprentice to his strict father as the heir to his family's pottery business. But fate has a way of setting things on a different course. / [Naoi-centric. Eventual Naoi/Yuri. OCs galore, some AB cameos. Rated T for abuse.]
1. The Potter's Son

**A/N: First off... I'd like to point out that today is the 7th anniversary of Angel Beats' last episode ("Graduation") and the 20th anniversary of the first Harry Potter book being published. Interesting how exactly 13 years after HP begins, Angel Beats ends. A Potter and a Lily die, then a potter and a lily choose to begin life anew. (Insert something about "I open at the close" here). So happy June 26th. :)**

 **Second, this is a prequel to Heartbreak Cure. I'm posting it now for the sake of Angel Beats anniversaries. It won't update as regularly since I'm invested in furthering HC, neither are finished, and there are spoilers for certain future HC chapters in TPS chapter 6. Still, I think this'll give you a better grasp of Naoi and the life he lived post-graduation.**

 **Disclaimer: All Angel Beats characters belong to Jun Maeda. Even Naoi's parents - all I did was give them names. As for the classmates, well, that's up in the air.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 01]: The Potter's Son_

* * *

Kimito's pottery shop was the last place Ayato Naoi wanted to be today.

He could say that about his father's shop any day, but this one—or even this _week_ —just seemed more hellish than usual.

His brain, fried from a long first week of his second to last year of high school, was now suffering from insufficient sleep, rude awakening courtesy of his impatient and displeased father. Excuse the hell out of him if his public school and homework schedule had rendered him incapable of finishing his work in the workshop last night. His aching stomach came from skipping breakfast against his will—also Kimito's orders.

"After neglecting his duties, and having a lazy start? I'm amazed he thinks he can sit down to breakfast too." His father had scoffed, digging his fingers into Ayato's wrist and pulling him up from the table. "He'll eat after he's earned it."

His mother, who had protested at first, meekly nodded and averted her eyes to the floor. Nothing to say, as usual, but apparently his grimace of pain was as noticeable as it felt. She got up to put his bowl away for later while Kimito dragged him by the scruff to the workshop.

And there he'd spent the wee hours of the morning trying not to let the whir of the pottery wheel lull him back to sleep. Trying not to let Kimito catch him when his mind would drift off to places he would much rather be.

Like bed, for instance. Or even school, despite the fact that he hadn't made any particularly close friends in the four years since he'd started attending it full-time.

He liked to blame that on his being a Naoi. The name would give him success but never a social life. Despite the respect that most of the people of Akuma gave Kimito for his skill in pottery, he didn't have the warmest of hearts even in public. Naturally, his classmates probably assumed he was just as much of a pretentious bastard with anger issues and a stick up his ass. He knew they would the second he walked in through the classroom door, so he'd just embraced it early.

On the bright side, they never asked him about Hayato, but that might have been because a girl in his grade lost her little brother and sister in a car crash a year or so after he started attending. Now he wasn't the only classmate with a dead sibling anymore.

School was just a continuation of him being invisible, but still… every second away from his father was bliss.

It took forever for him to finish his job at the potter's wheel. He'd been shooting yearning glances out the window, and the sun had long since risen. And then there was no time to go in for breakfast before Kimito expected him at the shop with his merchandise.

Sighing, he wiped his hands with the cloth on the stool next to him. There were vases fresh out of the kiln that Kimito needed brought to the shop this morning, and he'd worked too hard on them to handle them with anything less than care. Besides, he had a pretty good idea what Kimito would do to him if his vases were covered in dirt and clay fingerprints. Namely, he'd have more of Kimito's fingerprints on his arm.

The store was only a seven minute walk from the workshop at the edge of the Naoi estate, and then the vases would go in the back room so that Kimito could get to work painting them. Or whatever he was going to do with this batch. Ayato didn't care; he'd done his part already. As long as he didn't trip over a rock or his own feet and drop any of them, he was in the clear. He'd mastered the art of walking to and from the workshop with an armful of vases impairing his vision, so that wasn't a worry.

He just had a sinking feeling the day was long from over.

Taking the vases into his arms, he used memorization and the few centimeters of vision he had to navigate his way out of the workshop and down the trail towards town. If he were more confident of his balancing skills, he'd check his wristwatch, but by the height of the sun in the sky, it was still early. Too early for the store to be busy. Maybe Kimito wouldn't need him after this.

It did in fact look rather barren from what he could see when he peered in through the front door over the top of the vases. He pushed the door open with his back, the bell jingling to signal Kimito of his arrival, and shifted the vases in his arms before stepping inside. There were noises coming from the other end of the store—Kimito was already hard at work in the back room.

When Ayato appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat, his father looked up briefly from the ceramic he was chiseling away at but didn't pause.

"Well, you certainly took your time, didn't you?" Kimito nodded toward the spot where Ayato could set the vases down, and he did so promptly. "Are you this lazy when you're at school?"

This was a trick question, one he was all too familiar with. He could already hear the conversation playing out in his head.

" _No, sir."_

" _So you're just lazy with me, then. Maybe I should work you harder."_

Unfortunately, there were only two other options. One was sass, which would get him hit, but the other one never failed to bruise his pride.

If he still had any of that, he swallowed it down along with his sass. "Sorry for the delay."

Kimito squinted at him, then harrumphed and turned his attention back to his current project. His hair was already tied back into a ponytail, and his apron crumpled as he leaned over the ceramic to blow the shavings off of it. But then he stood up, untied his apron, and lifted it over his head.

"I'm going to be out for an hour," he said gruffly, setting it on a nearby stool.

"…What?"

Moving to the sink, Kimito washed off his hands and shook them dry. "I have to get some new tools and clay. And possibly run another errand or two after that." He wiped the remaining wetness off on his maroon work robe. "You'll run the store while I'm gone."

"But—" Ayato cut himself off, inwardly cursing himself for letting the word slip out.

If Kimito had heard it, he was surprisingly merciful. "Don't fool yourself into thinking you have anything better to do," he said with a scowl. "This is your _job_! One even you are competent enough to handle. There are hardly any customers this early anyway, but you need to get your head out of the clouds so I've got half a mind—"

 _Half a mind indeed._

Ayato snickered, then flinched as Kimito cuffed him over the head.

"—to leave you in charge for a few more hours," he finished, his eyes flashing with harsh golden disapproval. "You're sixteen. Act your age and do some damned work like a man instead of playing your stupid games." Lifting Ayato's chin in his hand, he frowned as if inspecting him closely. "Your mother coddles you too much."

Biting his tongue, Ayato merely stared back at him. If "coddling" meant "making her child breakfast, which he hasn't even eaten," then sure…

If "coddling" meant glancing away in pain because he resembled the ghost of her superior son? Then yes, fine, he was _coddled_.

Kimito grunted, his eyes falling on the vases in the corner of the room.

"Move those to the storage closet for me. After you've washed your hands and cleaned up around here first."

Ayato waited until the back door closed behind Kimito, then, when he was sure he was gone, he released a long breath in an irritated huff.

So this was his punishment. This was what he got for putting effort into his studies.

Then again, he strongly suspected that Kimito only let him start regularly attending high school to keep up appearances. If Kimito had his way, most days would be dedicated to training in the pottery studio instead of going to school. Which, despite his admitted enjoyment of pottery, sounded pretty awful to Ayato.

He washed his hands again and got out the broom. For someone who worked with a mud-like substance all the time, his father was somewhat of a neat freak. Sighing, he ran his free hand through his untidy hair. If only a broom could be put to better use. Like flying him somewhere else, for example. Anywhere else.

Kimito was right, though. He didn't have anything else to do. The only other place he could think of was his room, where at one point in his life he had been free to play games by himself. That part of his life was over now—had been since he was ten—and he had nowhere else to go. Or at least, nowhere else he really belonged.

This was going to be his shop someday, after all. Or so Kimito liked to remind him every chance he got. Familiarizing him with every inch of the store, leaving him in charge for random intervals, keeping him on his feet with menial and _meaningless_ tasks…

Seriously, what the hell was the point of telling him to bring in the pottery, then making him set them down in the back room, if he was just going to back out on a random errand trip and have them stored away?

Was it the power fix? Was that what he wanted?

He swept the floor more aggressively. He could never question Kimito like this out loud, but it would be nice to have the courage. As it was, as usual, he'd pretty much resigned himself to this kind of day. But that didn't mean he couldn't silently fume about it while his father was gone.

Of course, that would have to go right out the door if a customer walked in. Chances were, word would get around to Kimito that his son and apprentice was a bitter, brooding teenager with terrible customer service skills. And Kimito didn't respond well to getting bad reviews.

He set the broom against the wall; then, rubbing his arm, he gave the main room a once-over.

Clear and spotless, just the way the dictator wanted it. And still no customers to be served or to track dirt inside. No customers to interrupt a hypothetical nap he could take in the other room. No customers to be left waiting if he snuck out into town and got an early lunch to soothe his hunger pangs.

That was dangerous thinking and he knew it. Kimito could very well deliberately come back earlier than he said just to catch Ayato being irresponsible. Wouldn't be the first time. On second thought, he wasn't going to risk it.

So he was trapped here. For God knows how long.

The spring sun was shining in a sky that was bluer than any paint the Naoi family had, and he was trapped inside indefinitely.

He wouldn't kid himself. Sunny days for him were usually spent inside working or playing games. It wasn't like he had a life to live. In fact, he hated sunny days. They mocked him, made promises to everyone else in this town while reminding him that Kimito's vases needed to be fired in the kiln...

Oh, right. The vases.

He rounded the aisles, turned a corner, and meandered down the short hallway to the back room. Lifting the vases from their temporary spot, he shifted their weight in his arms. For some reason, they just did not want to settle correctly so that he could hold them and actually see a few feet in front of him. He must have picked them up weird, but he really didn't feel like setting them back down and making adjustments. It wasn't worth the effort; he could navigate this store with his eyes closed, and could certainly get to the storage closet on autopilot.

Besides, this store was dead quiet. What was he going to bump into? The ghost of a spurned customer?

Rolling his eyes, Ayato turned to blindly map his way to the back room door… and the toe of his boot caught the leg of a stool, which toppled over and slammed into something loud and aluminum. The room made the clatter echo so damn loud that there was no way people from all the way across town couldn't hear it, or Kimito's "my disappointment of a son is screwing up again" senses weren't going off at this very second.

Ayato froze, trying to get the ringing and his heartbeat out of his ear. Along with the thump, slam, and echoing clatter of a disastrous symphony that had just occurred, he could have sworn he'd also heard a jingle. So either a customer had just walked in, or his clumsy little domino effect had knocked something else to the floor. Going by likelihood, he'd put his money on the latter.

Once his heart was going again at a normal rate, he released a breath, then felt around with his foot to see if there was anything else there to nudge out of the way. All clear. He was just lucky the stupid chair hadn't tripped him.

The vases wobbled and jittered precariously in his grip, but he firmly steadied them before he ambled into the hall. The edge of at least one of the vases was digging into his arm, and all of them were resting uncomfortably against his bruises. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but suddenly the weight of it all was starting to get to him. The vases felt heavier in his arms than usual.

"Or maybe your arms are just sluggish," Kimito might say. "Look at those skinny twigs. You're not working hard enough."

Maybe you're just _weak._

Ayato growled lowly. If he was _weak_ , it was from lack of sleep or food. Or from being smacked around. Or from having his arm squeezed like some chew toy clamped between a dog's jaws. Or from working his fingers to the bone since early this morning. And from the same work last night. He had the blisters to show for it, but now he had the vases as well.

Maybe he was weak. Weak by comparison. But he was trying, and at least after a grueling week of balancing school and pottery, he'd finally finished the vases so that they turned out great.

And yet, of course, Kimito had nothing to say about that. Not even an acknowledgment that they were done well and on time. Instead he was willing to have them hidden away until he _felt_ like decorating them on his own time. Or he was just punishing him by keeping him on his feet and making sure he knew where he belonged. It wasn't clear just what went on in Kimito's head sometimes, but if there was one thing he had mastered as well as pottery, it was putting his family in their place.

If his place was here, running this shop and the studio someday, then the future looked bleak. Every day would be as bad and as isolating as this one. Nothing could be worse than living in this godforsaken town—

"Ah—!"

A sharp gasp preceded the day's next disaster.

He knew every shelf, table, and wall in this shop. He knew where he was going. The obstacle he roughly collided with was much softer than a wall, but the impact still knocked the breath out of his lungs.

And, to his numb horror, the vases out of his arms.

The haunting echo of ceramics shattering made his heart stop. When it restarted itself, the blood was racing white-hot to his head and pounding heavily in his ears. He felt dizzy, nauseated. The pottery exploded all over the floor in slow motion.

At first, he saw fuzz. An outline of someone who was thankfully too small and femininely shaped to be Kimito.

Then scenes of his soon to be very short life flashed before his eyes. Much of it at the end was mainly him slaving over those vases. When it cleared, there were only the shards lying pitifully on the floor _that he'd just cleaned._

And then—then there was red.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _What in the world is wrong with you?!"_

" _I didn't see you either."_

" _Did you hear me when I said 'don't bother'?"_

" _Normally I'd like to stay out of Mr. Naoi's way."_

" _WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED IN HERE?!"_

" _I think I did the most damage."_

[Chapter 02]: **Red.**


	2. Red

**A/N: First chapter break was only for the suspense! ...And because the entire original chapter was too long, especially in comparison to the others.**

 **Ah, the origin story...**

* * *

 _[Chapter 02]: Red_

* * *

"What in the world is wrong with you?!" he spat. Customer service be damned—he was dead anyway.

And whoever she was, she wasn't even _looking_ at him! She was just staring down at the shards at her feet like a complete imbecile. Maybe if she learned to look straight ahead instead of staring at her cute little boots, they wouldn't be having this problem.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?!" That snapped her head back up, but at this point Ayato didn't care. He had a lot of screaming left to do, his insides boiling with rage, his stomach turning, and now he couldn't look away from the devastation before them.

"LOOK at this!"

He sank to his knees, gesturing to the fragments surrounding him. It was like a minefield of jagged pottery pieces. And _wonderful_ —the broom was all the way on the other side of the store.

But the neatness of the floor was the smaller issue here. His mortality was at stake. He might already be having a heart attack—a _heart attack_ , at the age of sixteen!

If the girl had managed to say anything helpful or even intelligible, he couldn't hear it. The only thing he could hear over the ringing in his ear and his deadly heartbeat was his own screaming.

"My father is going to _murder_ me! Do you realize that?!" he snarled, glaring at her knees—if he dared look into her eyes, he'd lose his nerve. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at his fringe, and forced himself not to hyperventilate. "Do you realize how long all these took to make?! You just broke a week's worth of work!"

"If you could let me speak for two seconds, I could tell you I'm sorry—"

Her voice seemed familiar—maybe he'd heard it in the hallway at school. But that apology was crap. That wasn't a sorry. That was a sarcasm-laden guilt trip, and she could stuff it.

"You are indirectly going to cause my death! These vases are expensive!" He started picking up shards and scooping them into a pile, taking extra care in handling the sharper edges. The money this would lose them… he shuddered to think of how Kimito would react to this. "And they take _forever_ in the kiln. Because of you, I'm going to have to start all over again!"

If Kimito even let him live, that is.

The girl huffed, and he could just see her putting her hands on her dainty little hips. "Listen, I said I was sorry—"

"Well, why don't you just engrave that on my headstone," he replied, pitifully trying to connect two shards like a puzzle piece. "'Sorry' isn't going to put my vases back together!"

Another sigh from above him. Then she crouched and sat down in front of him, nudging some shards out of the way of her sitting area with her boot and shepherding them into his pile. "Then just let me help you."

"Don't bother," he muttered, turning away and scanning the room for the garbage can. But it was useless to say, because by the sound of it she was already picking up some pieces. Stubborn _and_ clumsy. If he weren't so furious with her, and with himself, he would note that they had a lot in common.

He got up to fetch the garbage can, along with the whisk broom and dustpan. But he made sure to yell and rant over his shoulder as he went.

Yes, he knew it was an accident. But it didn't matter how _he_ saw it.

"For future reference? If someone _clearly_ can't see where he's going, and if he's holding something _expensive_ ," he paused to fish the dustpan and whisk broom out of a cleaning cabinet, "it's _your_ job to use your perfectly unobscured vision and stay out of their way!"

"It was empty in here when I came in," she said defensively. "I was looking around for the shop owner and next thing I know you're flying out at me. You didn't…" she hesitated then for some reason, her breath catching, "you didn't really give me a lot of time to react."

"That's because I didn't know you were _there_!"

"Well like I said, _I_ didn't see you either."

He came back around the corner of the shelves with the dustpan, tiptoeing over the pieces that had spread out farther in the vase explosion. She'd actually made some progress moving a good portion of the shards closer to each other. Now her head was bent with her dark reddish purple hair covering her face, avoiding his eyes and focusing intently on adding to the pile.

"Intent doesn't matter," he shot back, kneeling down to sweep up the pieces. "Intent isn't going to—"

"—fix your vases. Yeah, I heard you the first time."

"Did you hear me when I said 'don't bother'?!" He found himself getting rather irritated with this girl. She kept trying to play the good guy, making him look like a jerk when _he_ was the victim here.

He was the one who was doomed. _She_ was fine. She—

With furrowed eyebrows, he picked up a piece of pottery he'd already swept into the pan. There was a wetness on it, a maroon discoloration against the brown of the hardened clay. When he touched it, crimson came off on his fingertips.

Blood? Was that his? On top of everything, if he'd gotten cut by the broken shards of his own vase… He sent another annoyed grunt her way. But then, the blood would've had to come from him handling it with bloody fingers.

He inspected himself, then frowned. Nothing. He should have suspected, his hands had gotten too calloused to cut. And he'd been careful.

But then, that would mean…

He flicked his gaze toward the girl, who was still picking through the mess on her side. Behind her hair he could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, and her right hand was clenched and quivering slightly.

Picking up a shard from her pile, he curiously squinted at it. And his stomach dropped.

More maroon fingerprints.

"Are…" he lowered his voice, a sinking feeling in his chest where the guilt trip struck, "are you bleeding?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's just a cut."

"Let me see."

At first she held her clenched hand to her heart, her face still hiding behind all that dark red hair. But he held out his hand and waited. With a sigh, she extended her injured hand to him, and he took it.

There was a significant slice in her middle finger, where she must have gotten cut picking up a sharp piece of pottery. He couldn't tell if any of her other fingers had gotten cut; they were all tinted with crimson. She'd been concealing it in her fist, but now that it'd unraveled in his hand, the blood was dripping down her fingers and wrist and onto the floor.

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, he swallowed hard and fought back a grimace. The idiot had just… just let herself _bleed_ without saying anything?

Though… he really hadn't given her too many chances to speak up while he was screaming at her.

So, then, why had she continued helping him?

When he lifted his gaze from all the red, the next color he saw was green. Pure sea-green eyes, widening underneath dark reddish purple bangs that framed a strikingly familiar heart-shaped face.

The strong sense of recognition he felt at that moment was strange. He'd barely ever noticed his classmates, but something about this girl was different. He _had to_ have seen her in the hallway before.

When and where would have to wait for another time. There were more important matters at hand.

"There's a sink in the back room," he said, taking her wrist more securely and helping her to her feet. "Come on. I'll help you clean that up."

She hesitated for a second, then nodded and followed him as he headed down the hall.

In the back room, she'd batted his hand away when he tried to help her run the cut under cold water, but she didn't deny his assistance when he came to her bearing gauze. Again, he took her hand in his calloused ones, and slowly but gingerly began to wrap her afflicted finger.

Unfortunately not as gingerly as he had hoped. The gauze tightened around her cut, and she flinched with a small yelp.

"Sorry!" he said quickly, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Suggesting she'd never expect such a humble thing to come out of _his_ mouth. Sighing, he picked up some scissors from his father's work table and snipped the gauze. "Not just for hurting you. For yelling at you too." He held the gauze on with one hand while grabbing some tape with the other. "I have an explanation but no justification."

"Hm. What's your explanation?" she asked, eyeing him as he pressed the tape onto her gauze.

"Let's see…" Releasing her finger, he began to count on his. "Long day, no sleep, skipped breakfast, no food, slaved over a potter's wheel for hours this morning, got work thrown on me out of nowhere… and Kimito Naoi is my father."

She snorted then, toying with her bandages. "I can understand the last one."

This time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her.

"My parents buy from him," she explained, shrugging when she caught his skeptical glance. "They're big vase fanatics. Collectors, I guess. They usually shop for one themselves when one of them isn't busy, but they both are now, so they sent me to see if the one they've had their eye on is still available." She scoffed, leaning against the edge of the sink. "Normally, I'd like to stay out of Mr. Naoi's way."

"Yeah, well, you and me both," he said, planting himself next to her on the sink counter.

Her mouth twitched into a half-smirk, and she eyed him with sudden curiosity.

"So you're his son?" she asked. " _Ayato_ Naoi?"

"Unfortunately." But thank the whole blessed universe she hadn't called him by his brother's name.

"I'm Yuri." She held out her uninjured hand for him to take, and they shook. But then she frowned, concerned. "So your father wouldn't really murder you for what happened in there, would he?"

Ayato opened his mouth to answer, but then the bell at the front door jingled and they both froze. The door slammed shut, followed by a furious snarl.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED IN HERE?!"

"You're about to find out," Ayato said aside to her.

Yuri's eyes went wide. "Geez, he's even louder than you-!"

"AYATO!"

Heavy, quick, and dangerous footsteps headed down the hallway with all speed.

"Ayato, you'd better—"

Kimito's face, which paled instead of reddened whenever he was furious, had gone a deathly snow white by the time he appeared in the doorway. But when he spotted the two of them standing there, he cut himself off. A different, unreadable color took over his face.

"Miss Nakamura!" said Kimito. "What are you doing here?"

Ayato whipped his head around at the name, giving Yuri a questioning look that she didn't seem to notice.

Nakamura? She was a _Nakamura_?!

"My parents are busy, but they've seen a vase they're interested in," Yuri said calmly. "So I've come in their place as the paying customer."

"I can only hope you'll be as loyal a customer as your parents one day." Kimito regarded her with interest and a little bit of suspicion, but with no trace of anger left over on his face. "Might I ask what you're doing in the back room with my son?"

The implications there lit up Ayato's cheeks, before he realized where this topic would take them. He looked helplessly to Yuri, but she was already answering Kimito's question.

"About that, Mr. Naoi…" She twisted at the gauze on her finger. "That mess out there? That was my fault, not his. I wasn't looking where I was going and I crashed into him while he was carrying some pottery vases."

Kimito turned his attention to Ayato, his gold eyes glinting. Ayato nodded, confirming both her story and Kimito's silent question of whether or not they'd been _the_ vases. But inwardly his head was spinning faster than the potter's wheel.

"Then, even though he assured me I didn't have to bother, I tried to help him clean it up. It was my doing, after all. But I cut myself on a shard," Yuri said, and held up her bandaged hand, "so your son was nice enough to take me back here and take care of it for me."

Kimito nodded, rubbing his chin. "So that would be _your_ blood on the floor."

Yuri winced. "Yeah, I'll clean it up. Sorry about that."

"No need." Kimito waved his hand dismissively. "I'm just relieved the cut wasn't too severe. If your parents heard that my son's vases injured their daughter, they'd never buy one from me again."

Turning it around on him and making it about money… Ayato quickly suppressed his scoff. Typical Kimito Naoi.

"In all fairness, I think I did the most damage," Yuri said. Managing to meet his eyes—a bold feat—she gave the older man an apologetic frown. "I can pay for that."

If she was the Nakamuras' daughter, then of course she could. That couple could pay for half the shop! The other half might even already be in their sitting room at this point. No wonder his father was actually being pleasant toward Yuri. He couldn't afford to lose her parents' business.

Kimito must have been thinking the same thing at that moment.

"I'll take it up with your parents," he said, stony-faced, "but no harm done."

Unbelievable. If Ayato had been a cartoon, or confident enough to be melodramatic in front of his father right now, he would have vigorously rubbed at his eyes. He wasn't going to take his chances with anything else, but he could very well be off the hook here.

"Yeah, no harm done," Yuri agreed, placing a hand on Ayato's arm, "thanks to this guy."

He blinked at her, but she only continued to smile at Kimito. Ayato frowned—what was she doing?

"I have to give your son credit," she said, pushing herself off the sink and walking up to the older Naoi. "When he saw that I was hurt, he acted quickly and responsibly." She cast her smile briefly to Ayato, before giving Kimito a respectful bow-like nod. "You've got a good worker here."

"Indeed," said Kimito, and Ayato nearly fell over in shock. "Well, Miss Nakamura, if you still want to talk business, we can take this into the main room." He nodded to his son. "Ayato, I think you'll want to finish cleaning up in there before you head home."

 _Head home_?

Ayato couldn't believe his ears. But he knew better than to "stand there gaping like an imbecile" after his father had given him an order in front of a customer.

"Y-yes, sir," he managed, and bowed slightly to the both of them before he slipped into the hallway.

It took a little over three minutes to sweep up the remaining shards on the floor and dispose of them. The blood took longer to wipe up and disinfect, though he did that discreetly while Yuri was over at the counter with Kimito so she wouldn't be embarrassed.

Then again, she shouldn't be the one to feel embarrassed. If he hadn't yelled at her, she might have told him she was bleeding sooner. If he hadn't turned into a total monster…

If he caused a girl's injury—yes, he'd admit he _caused_ it, however indirectly—and merely kept shouting at her, he really was no better than his father.

He scrubbed harder at the floor until there wasn't a single fleck of red left, then put his gloves and cleaning tools back in the cabinet. Lifting the protective apron over his head, he draped it on a hook on the wall, then made his way to the front. He hesitated at the door, and turned to look over his shoulder. Kimito was still speaking to Yuri at the counter, while lovingly patting the top of a large, intricately decorated vase that he'd set on the surface. Ayato cleared his throat to get their attention.

"I'm heading out," he said.

His father gave a grunt and slight hand wave, dismissing him. "I'll meet you at home."

After all that "running the store for a few more hours" talk, he was seriously letting him go. Ayato spared a grateful glance at Yuri, who grinned back at him.

"Maybe I'll see you around school sometime," she said.

A similar grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe." And then, when Kimito was looking the other way, he mouthed a "thank you so much," to which she replied with an inconspicuous thumbs up.

With a final bell jingle, he left the store behind him and headed toward the workshop.

Yes, Yuri had saved his life, but he had some vases to make up for.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I had you pegged for a rooftop lunch kind of loner."_

" _Why are you sitting with me?"_

" _He couldn't literally murder you."_

" _You really are a bad judge of character."_

" _My grandparents were… horrible drivers."_

" _Are you trying to be my friend?"_

[Chapter 03]: **Blood Bond.**


	3. Blood Bond

**A/N: Thanks for the follows, and reviews from Rival Argentica and ZainR! I'm glad you hate Kimito as much as Naoi and I do. From the way Naoi flinches at aggressive hugs and even startles at soft shoulder touches, I figured there was more to his father we weren't seeing. Ugh, my most hated canon character.**

 **Rival Argentica: I love that you caught the symbolism there! I made up Akuma and specially chose the name for the demons of Naoi and Yuri's past (or in this case present). But the hell thing (4x) was unintentional, so nice catch! The fact that it was accidental is even better tbh. And yes - Ayato gets to be himself this time around at the very least. He still has to take over the business, but there's no cruel twin-swapping scheme. However, there's still plenty of room for identity crises.**

 **Here's a dose of angsty Naoi goodness to brighten up your Mondays!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 03]: Blood Bond_

* * *

Weekends flew by when they were spent in the workshop—which was strange, since every minute spent training and sculpting felt like an hour. At least his mother had been ready with lunch as soon as he'd gotten home, and he worked too diligently to give Kimito a reason to make him miss any more meals.

On Monday, he managed to finish his chores at the pottery wheel in time to eat a quick breakfast insisted upon him by his mother and then leave early for school. It was a double win—he wouldn't have a repeat of Friday and Saturday, and there was no hurry to do anything but a leisurely pace on his walk into town.

Despite what had happened six years ago, he could still appreciate nature. The Naoi estate was separated from town by a forest with a trail in one direction, while another route to a different part of town had a quaint little walking bridge over a thin river.

When he wasn't hiding in his room, he and Hayato used to play in the forest. Those were the memories of his childhood that he cherished, the ones that stuck with him. He wouldn't remember the greatest high score he got on Air Busters, but he would always remember being eight, pretending he was being chased by a monster and climbing up in the trees with Hayato.

It used to feel weird walking through these trees without his twin brother—but after more than half a decade, he was used to the solitude. It still smelled like trees, and the sound and feel of the breeze rustling the leaves and his hair relaxed him. The farther away from the estate he walked, the lighter he felt.

The Akuma High School building was about as small as the city itself, but with plenty of spaces to hang out on campus afterwards. Though he was early, a group of kids were already dangling from the tree and sitting on the stone border at the spot where he'd been going to eat lunch all last week. One guy dangling from the tree swung from the branch a few times and kicked his friend off the bench. The other boy yelped, then got back on his feet and tackled the tree boy. They promptly started wrestling and jeering at each other.

Ayato rolled his eyes. Public school students truly were imbeciles.

His classroom was a third full by the time he walked in, but they had assigned seats so he claimed his usual middle seat by the window and nobody batted an eye. It was as if he wasn't even there.

The next couple of class periods passed faster than he would have liked, but it figured since it was already routine. Ami would be whispering to Kurimu, the girl in the seat behind him. Diagonal from Ami, hidden behind Kurimu's wild honey-brown hair, Souma Hejjiguchi was usually either asleep on his desk or kicking back in his seat with his book draped over his face. Ayato had heard Ami's and Kurimu's names only from their hushed conversations behind him, but he knew Hejjiguchi's full name because the teacher had yelled at him various times to wake up or get his feet off Kurimu's chair, since the girl was too polite to tell him herself.

The class after that would be a little quieter, being that it was History and a larger chunk of the class slept or daydreamed through it. He'd come to expect that from public school students. Sure, a lot of the teachers spoke in monotone and many of the subjects were tedious, but there were far worse fates. And far crueler people. And he liked learning about things that weren't made of clay.

His habitual willing of the clock to slow down—most students would find this peculiar, but most students weren't Kimito Naoi's son—was as ineffective as ever, so lunch rolled around and led him out to the courtyard. Sitting down on the stone border bench under the trees, he unpacked the meal his mother had prepared for him.

His mother…

Although they shared similar punishments and she understood his pain, she never dared comfort him out loud. Not in words that her husband could hear. No, she'd learned her lesson a few times. No one could ever contradict Kimito's criticisms or question his parenting skills and get away with it. Instead, she showed love in gifts and food.

Mostly food, since that was the only thing she could usually convince her husband that Ayato was worthy of receiving.

Suffice it to say that these days he and his mother didn't have too many heart-to-hearts, thanks to Kimito's interference and strict training schedule, but she knew which foods he liked. Chicken, rice, beans, korokke, and anpan, among other things. To give the woman credit, food was a nice means of communication when at times she couldn't even look him in the eye. Such was the trouble of a mother with one son left that looked like the other.

Blocked from the exceptionally warm spring sun by the shade of the trees, he had finished his rice and was just starting into his chicken when another shadow fell over him.

"Interesting. I had you pegged for a rooftop lunch kind of loner."

His eyes snapped up and he paused in mid-bite, half the chicken sticking out of his mouth. He quickly swallowed it down, but there was no stopping the broad grin that crept across Yuri's face. What an attractive second impression he must have made on her.

"And I had you pegged for the type who ate lunch with her friends," he replied.

"Then I guess we're both pretty bad judges of character." She sat down beside him and began unpacking her lunch on her lap.

He opened his mouth, then realized that he didn't know what to call her.

"Nakamura—"

"I thought I introduced myself as Yuri," she said, and took a sip of her coffee. Canned Key coffee, it looked like. He'd seen the vending machine in the halls.

"Yuri," he amended. "Not to be rude, but why are you sitting with me?"

That came out rude anyway. It was just that she was a Nakamura. From the respect his father gave her parents, he knew her family was pretty wealthy. And on top of all that, she was—well—not too hard to look at. She had to have at least a handful of friends she'd rather eat with.

Yuri licked her lips, as if savoring the coffee that had lingered.

"Dunno," she said at last. "There's just kind of this weird connection we might have had on Saturday. I think we accidentally made some kind of blood bond or something."

"What are you talking about?" He turned to look at her, but she was grinning. So she was at least half-kidding.

"I'm just saying!" She held up her hands in defense, careful not to drop her food. "Your blood, sweat, and tears went into making those vases. And one of them cut me. And it was only after that that we started being nice to each other."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "So what you're saying is, you want to eat lunch with me because we formed an unintentional blood pact."

Yuri shrugged. "It would explain why I felt like seeking you out."

He hesitated then. He wouldn't go straight to the blood bond theory, but if she was saying they were somehow drawn to each other, he couldn't argue that. He had definitely felt an odd connection the moment he looked at her. If she was saying it wasn't just him, he wouldn't brush that off.

Besides, if he shot her down again, she might leave.

He didn't want her to leave.

"Naoi?"

Her voice brought him back into focus. "Yeah?"

"I was just wondering if your dad let you off the hook for those vases," she said, taking a bite of rice out of her lunch.

"Oh." He shook his head, thinking back to this past weekend. "For the most part. He mainly just had me start over again, so it's been a rough couple of days but it could have been a lot worse." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I have you to thank for that."

Yuri frowned. "Happy to help, but I don't see how having to start all over again is being let off the hook."

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear when I told you my dad was going to murder me."

"He couldn't literally murder you," Yuri said, waving her chopsticks in the air dismissively. "You're the only son he has left."

Ayato stopped chewing and gave her an incredulous look.

Another frown, this one more apologetic as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Sorry," she said, biting her lip. "But I'm just going by One Last Child Syndrome."

"What the _hell_ is One Last Child Syndrome?"

"It's a term I made up," Yuri explained, moving the remains of her lunch to her other side. She folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead into nothingness. "When a parent has two or more kids and by some cruel twist of fate, all but one dies, or they all die but the parents pop out one more kid before it's too late… it only makes sense that the parents would get really protective of—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Ayato held up a hand to cut in. "You're right, you really are a bad judge of character."

Yuri pursed her lips into a frown. "True. This is Kimito Naoi we're talking about." She glanced down at her boots, then back at him with a sheepish expression. "I just figured, since he's your father…"

"If I'd broken both my arms in that fall, if I'd been paralyzed and couldn't spin the potter's wheel," Ayato looked her straight in the eye, "I assure you that man would want me dead."

She faltered, choosing to go quiet as she took another long drink of her coffee.

He mentally kicked himself. What was he doing, unleashing something that heavy on her? They'd only just met a few days ago. He might be a bit rusty in the friendship department, but he didn't think people talked about this kind of thing right off the bat. "Blood bond" or no "blood bond."

Then again, she was the one who led them into _controversial_ topics.

"Sorry I brought it up," Yuri said, as if reading his mind. He made a noncommittal grunt, and she crushed her coffee can in her hands. "I just figured you could relate to me with the One Last Child Syndrome thing. I guess we have a little less in common than I thought."

"What would you know about One Last Child Syndrome?" Ayato asked.

The answer hit him a split second after he saw the look of surprise on her face.

"I guess word didn't spread as far as I thought," she said, raising an eyebrow. "That's good. My parents wanted to keep it quiet. They didn't want _anyone_ to talk about it."

His mouth felt dry. "You had—"

"A little brother and sister. She was ten, he was eight. I was really protective of them." She clasped her hands over her knee, a wistful smile crossing her face. "But I couldn't be with them all the time. Their cool big sister decided she was cool enough to go to a friend's birthday party, instead of visiting our grandparents with them."

Ayato had a feeling he knew the part that was coming up next.

"My grandparents were… horrible drivers," Yuri said, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "It was snowing, so they shouldn't have been on the road anyway. But they wanted to take them out to eat. They just didn't expect it to get so bad out." She popped some chicken into her mouth, then kicked her heel in the dirt aimlessly. "The crash happened a couple of years ago. To tell you the truth I'm surprised your dad never mentioned it to you."

"I'm not." His abrupt answer made her turn to him with a questioning frown. "My father doesn't care about your family. Just your money. Anyway, he wouldn't talk to me about something like that."

Yuri hummed in understanding.

To think that _she_ was the other girl who'd lost her siblings. Maybe her name had been mentioned in the lockers or whispered in class. He just hadn't bothered to listen.

"But I'm sorry about your brother and sister," he added feebly, realizing he was starting to sound just as uncaring as him.

When had he become this numb and cold? He'd never noticed it before, especially not in comparison to Kimito. But talking to Yuri now, his inherited bitterness felt painfully obvious—along with his complete lack of social skills.

It really was a wonder she was still sitting with him right now. Seemed incredibly dubious that she couldn't go to someone else for more sufficient sympathy.

"Hmm," was her half-hearted response. "Kind of feels good to talk about it for once."

But why to _him_? That was something he desperately wanted to ask her, but he couldn't bring himself to. It might come out wrong—rude, in fact. It certainly sounded rude in his head. Here she was, trying to confide in him about "blood bonds" and parents and losing her siblings and something about One Last Child Syndrome, and all he could do was try to wrap his busy mind around—

Wait.

He might have just given himself the answer.

"Are you trying to be my friend?" Ayato asked, glancing sideways at her. She blinked twice, and he had to keep from slapping himself.

Damn it. That was supposed to be surprise, not antagonism.

After a beat, Yuri gave a small shrug.

"That's the goal," she said, digging into the last of her lunch with her chopsticks. "As long as _you_ want to be _my_ friend."

Six years without a brother. Only four fully public-schooled years. He wasn't good at this sort of thing. He wasn't sure if he was even trained for it. After sixteen years of exposure to Kimito, he was pretty sure the man had groomed him to be toxic.

But weirdly enough, Yuri seemed sure of _him_.

His eyes fell to her chopsticks—or rather, the way she handled them. "How's your finger?"

She grinned. "Healing. Doesn't hurt much." She dropped her chopsticks into her lunch and waggled her afflicted finger for emphasis. Then she furrowed her brows. "Did I ever thank you for that?"

"For cutting your finger?" Ayato scoffed.

"No, I did that myself," Yuri said impatiently. "For tending to it."

"You thanked me by taking the blame for the vases and saving my skin." Just remembering it now, he felt the same disorienting sense of safety he had on Saturday. He had to hand it to her, he was still amazed she'd looked Kimito in the eye and owned up to everything. "I've never had someone protect me like that before," he said, with honest admiration.

Yuri smiled vaguely. "I do my best."

Something about her answer seemed off, almost sad. But before he had time to question it, a heavy drop of rain splashed down on the bridge of his nose. Yuri must have felt one too, because they both glanced up at the same time. Where there was once sunshine, thick grey clouds hovered overhead. The air smelled like storms—not the worm rain smell, the one with a scent like a drink of water.

It was nice—refreshing, even—but a look at his watch said it was time to go.

"We should get inside," he said.

With a nod, Yuri grabbed the remains of her lunch and he grabbed his. They escaped from under the trees and dashed across the courtyard as the rainclouds commenced their drizzle. He heard the distinct sound of a light thunder rumble before the school doors closed behind them.

After weeks of cold March and a too sunny early April, it was absolute glory to his ears.

* * *

 **A/N: See you on Saturday with Chapter 11 of Heartbreak Cure! As for TPS, the next update will probably be on July 31st. Still pacing myself on this one since it's the shorter and less frequently written prequel. But I do love it so. Hope you will too.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Walking home?"_

" _Our parents should switch jobs."_

" _I used to have to babysit my brother and sister all the time."_

" _You can leave me here."_

" _Now your dad's your only excuse."_

" _I'll find you."_

[Chapter 04]: **Home Trail.**


	4. Home Trail

**A/N: Potter Day update, as promised!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 04]: Home Trail_

* * *

Classes passed like a blur after lunch, like they always seemed to. Ayato didn't even bother with his clock-slowing. He found himself paying less attention toward the end, his focus more directed toward the droplets of rain racing each other on the window. Being invisible had its good parts—the teachers never noticed when he was daydreaming.

The downpour eased up during the second to last class, and by the time he walked out of the building, the blue-grey sky was only leaking a soda pop fizz of rain. Not enough to merit putting up the hood of his black jacket. The scent of the air was still sweet and fresh instead of coppery, which would give him a little comfort on his walk home. Fresh rain and trees… that was a godlike combination.

He breathed in some of the storm air, then let it out in a defeated sigh and made his way toward the street that would lead him in the direction of his home trail.

His father would be waiting for him at home. Although at this point he bore Yuri less ill will for Saturday's incident, he was terribly behind on his pottery projects. Kimito expected him to start over _and_ make up for the difference in training, despite whatever conversation he planned to have with the Nakamuras about his merchandise.

This week might turn out to be more grueling than the last one. He suspected his father still believed he was somehow to blame, and while he didn't have enough proof or a tangible reason to merit a beating, he could still punish his lazy, clumsy son with more work.

It was dangerous to come home this slowly after class—although today he could blame the rain, and if he was lucky he could convince Kimito he got caught up in a conversation with a teacher. Usually if he broke into a jog or at least a brisk trot once the workshop was in sight, he could get away with his leisurely pace.

It was like the climb up a roller coaster hill before the plunge, except his stomach would drop for an entirely different reason.

"Walking home?"

He stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk, nearly tripping over a nonexistent crack in the concrete, and spun around at the voice.

Yuri stood a few feet behind him, her solid burgundy backpack slung over one shoulder. Rain speckled her uniform, and as she had no umbrella or hood, her hair was wine-colored and stringy. Despite all that, she looked strangely serene.

"Can't keep Lord Kimito Naoi waiting," he said after he'd composed himself. Was she following him? Or had she been standing there waiting for him and he just hadn't noticed?

"I see," she said, smirking as she strode past him. "I've got a curfew too, when my parents are home."

Baffled, he fell into step next to her, trying to mentally draw a map of Akuma and remember where the Nakamura house was.

More like a mansion, actually. The Nakamuras were both businesspeople, so it made sense that they were wealthy enough to afford such a nice estate—but at the same time, too busy to live in it.

They seemed like pleasant people when they dropped by to shop or speak with Kimito (as pleasant as anyone could be with that man). Good aesthetic taste, and Mr. Nakamura was patient where his wife was fast-paced. They had an "opposites attract" dynamic he found amusing, with the husband shaking Kimito's hand while his wife took a business call.

Yuri must really miss them while they were gone.

"Are they home now?" he asked.

"Just got in this morning." Yuri smiled—faintly, but genuinely. "Just enough time to wish me good luck at school before they passed out. I swear, they never think to sleep on the train or the plane."

"So you just had the whole weekend to yourself?" She _had_ said that her parents were busy in the store on Saturday.

Yuri shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah," she said like it was nothing. "From Friday morning to now."

"I should be so lucky," Ayato muttered.

"More like lonely."

"Being with my father is lonelier." He scraped his boot on the road as they passed a crosswalk. Yuri frowned thoughtfully but didn't contradict him. "Our parents should switch jobs."

Yuri perked up, turning to look at him with both eyebrows arched in startled amusement.

"Now _there_ 's an idea," she said, a broad grin stretching across her face. "You know, it kind of works. My parents like pottery and your dad likes bullying people."

He snorted, trying to cover it up with a fist, but it soon dissolved into full-blown laughter. Before he knew it, they were both cracking up, him shaking his head while Yuri leaned against the gate to somebody's house for support.

Clearing his throat, Ayato rubbed the back of his head and glanced over at Yuri. She seemed to take this as the "I've still got a curfew" look, and surged on ahead, still snickering to herself. Though he was quick to follow her, he felt himself slowing a few times after he caught up with her. Something about her situation still bothered him.

"So why do your parents leave you alone so much?" he said, after a conflicting—but somehow simultaneously comfortable—silence.

"It's nothing new," she said indifferently. "I used to have to babysit my brother and sister all the time, ever since I was eleven." Then she puffed up with confidence, stretching her arms behind her head. "Besides, I'm almost seventeen."

"Yeah, but what about One Last Child Syndrome?" he pressed.

Yuri slowed her pace, her formerly confident stance seeming to wane. He felt a little guilty at first, but it was _her_ controversial term.

"Apparently, in order to spoil me as much as they can, they need to work hard and make more money." Her arms falling at her sides, she blew a strand of wet hair out of her eyes. "But they do come home for me, maybe even earlier and more often than they're supposed to."

She looked to him then, shrugging.

"And _that's_ when One Last Child Syndrome sets in, hence the curfew I told you about."

Ayato ran his hand through his hair, as if the rain and wind hadn't untidied it enough (it had probably gone from his usual dark green to a shade that often passed for black). It was weird how similar and different their situations could be at the same time. She should be able to see her parents as often as he was stuck with his.

Meanwhile, at least the curfew set by the Nakamuras was made out of love and concern; in Ayato's case, it was more of a protection of goods.

One Last Child Syndrome, indeed. More like Shoddy Spare Syndrome.

He kept that to himself, deciding Yuri had heard enough negativity out of him, and they actually managed a lighter conversation for a few minutes as they meandered the roads of Akuma. About the weather, as clichéd as it sounded, and classes, as well as the ridiculous people in them. Some boy named Igarashi in Yuri's class fell asleep during third period and when the teacher went to wake him up, he found his notebook paper covered in weirdly accurate sketches of human organs. Hopefully that guy was only studying to be a surgeon.

They soon came to the fork in the road, one trail leading into the forest toward the Naoi estate and the other veering off toward the other side of town. Yuri slowed to a stop, a frown forming as she grunted indecisively.

Ayato stopped too, checking his watch. They did both have a curfew to consider.

"It's alright, you can leave me here," he offered.

Besides, Kimito might be waiting for him now that the rain was letting up. The last thing Ayato wanted to do was expose her to him any more than necessary.

Yuri turned uncertain eyes to him, then finally nodded.

"Alright," she conceded, and pointed down the street to their left. "Listen, my place is like ten, fifteen minutes from here. That side of town, past the Maeda coffee shop…"

"The extravagant mansion surrounded by nature, right?"

She grinned. "Yeah, you can't miss it." Then her features softened up a bit more seriously. "Come visit sometime if you need anything, okay? Or if you're bored, or—"

"—or if Kimito cuts me a break," Ayato finished, feeling a smile come over him. "There's a trail with a walking bridge near my place that takes me closer to your side of town. Might be a good shortcut."

"Oh yeah, I know the place," Yuri considered. She crossed her arms, the corners of her eyes crinkling somewhat. "Now your dad's your only excuse."

A pretty heavy excuse, though. An excuse who was waiting on him right now. But there was a tiny, dangerous voice at the back of his head assuring him that Kimito would just have to deal with it.

After a silence, Yuri's expression grew sober. "But seriously. If you need anything—"

"—I'll find you," he said.

Yuri smiled, looking satisfied. "Or maybe I'll find you."

"Somehow that wouldn't surprise me." After all, she'd done it twice today. "What with our blood bond and everything."

Snorting, she unconsciously touched her gauze. Then, turning on her heel, she gave him a lazy, bandaged wave as she sauntered down the road.

"See you around, Naoi."

He stood there for a moment, watching her go. The threat of visible happiness tugged at his features. Still smiling, he double-checked his watch. Stood there for a second, processing everything. And then he broke into a run.

He was a dead man. But a dead man with a friend.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _That's way too close to the workshop."_

" _It would give us a little more time to hang out."_

" _I can't remember a time that man raised a hand to me for a positive reason."_

" _I'm stronger than I look!"_

" _Why would I be swooning?"_

" _Don't downplay my victory!"_

" _On one condition."_

[Chapter 05]: **Pottery Muscles.**


	5. Pottery Muscles

**A/N: Okay, this is super short, but I promise I'll be uploading a chapter next week that's much longer. I told myself I'd upload Chapter 6 on September 9th anyway, plus it just seems right to post a new chapter on the second anniversary of the day I started writing Heartbreak Cure. Unfortunately I found out I have a pretty sizable assignment due on the 10th, so I desperately need to work on that, but Chapter 6 is still locked in for 9/9.**

 **(Guess who has two classes and a fic but needs to re-learn how to portion her time wisely? _This girl_...)  
**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 05]: Pottery Muscles_

* * *

Within two weeks, they were walking to and from school together every day.

It was Yuri's idea. If Kimito wanted to run him ragged as soon as he got home from school, they might as well take the moments in between. He was starting to appreciate how clever this girl was. Clever, but also daring to the point of foolishness. Within the first week of them walking together, Yuri wanted to accompany him as far as the edge of the Naoi estate, past the trees.

"That's way too close to the workshop," he'd warned her. "My dad might be there. He'd see you."

"And what, you'd get in trouble for walking home with a friend?" Yuri jabbed. Then she'd preened, puffing up proudly. "I think we've already established that you _avoid_ punishment by sticking with me."

She presented a good argument, but he stood firm. She'd wave goodbye and he'd watch until she disappeared down the road, just to make sure. But he never missed the flicker of disappointment on her face before she nodded and turned her back on him.

It wasn't her. She had to know that. He just—didn't want to ruin a good thing.

Yes, she was the daughter of Kimito's best customers. Yes, she could hold her own and look his father right in the eye—but that was one of his worries. She might let that get to her head. Nakamura or not, Ayato knew how his father treated women who took a step out of line.

Kimito might hold it together so that nothing negative got back to her parents, but still… he couldn't take that chance. All logic and reason flew out the window as soon as he'd pictured her after a confrontation, with bruises like his mother's.

He couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk her.

It was strange, knowing someone for less than a month and then having this powerful need to protect them. He wondered where he'd gotten it from. Certainly not his father. Very doubtfully from his mother, who was too demure to do anything against her husband's will. Maybe it was Yuri, already rubbing off on him.

Whatever it was, it made him want to keep Yuri separate from his home life. Help her "stay out of Mr. Naoi's way," as she herself had put it.

Instead, they found more time to spend together during school. When they had a free period, lunch or otherwise, they would walk and talk in the halls or meet in an empty club room. If he hadn't already noticed, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Yuri. He would've thought he'd gotten rusty over the past six years, only speaking when spoken to with Kimito or when answering a question in class.

No—instead, it came naturally. Much like her competitive side, and her stubborn inability to let things go.

"I'm just saying," she said over lunch in the club room, kicking back in her seat and waving her chopsticks at him. "It's not like I'm dying to run into the guy. It's just that it would give us a little more time to hang out."

"Five minutes, maybe." Ayato shrugged and sipped his juice.

It was almost June, and she'd been bringing this up since late April. She played it like she didn't care, like she was the queen of nonchalance, but he saw right past her. It would come up more often on the days and weeks that her parents were gone. Apparently late spring was a busy season for them. While she had no curfew being enforced, she seemed particularly eager to take advantage of it.

"And maybe I want to take the path with the walking bridge," Yuri continued, picking up her half-drunk coffee can. "It's a good shortcut. The place where it opens up takes me a little closer to my house, and the bridge makes my walk home more scenic."

Ayato sighed. "I don't know…"

"Come _on_ ," she coaxed. "I don't know why you're being such a stiff about this."

"Yes you do."

"He's not going to murder you if a Nakamura escorts you back to your house." She scoffed through a sip of her drink. After a pause, she flashed him one of her infamous grins. "If anything, he'd give you a respectful pat on the back for establishing goodwill with a customer."

Ayato harrumphed.

"I can't remember a time that man raised a hand to me for a _positive_ reason," he said scornfully. Yuri snapped her gaze on him.

"What…?" Her grip on her coffee can grew tighter. The aluminum crinkled.

He realized what he'd let slip, but what's done was done. Besides, he'd insinuated as much numerous times over the course of their month-and-a-half-long friendship, what with the "my father is going to kill me" comments. Maybe this time his implications were just more direct than what she was used to.

At the moment though, he'd rather let her continue reading between the lines.

"Oh, you know he isn't the affectionate sort," he said.

Yuri's frown grew pensive, then wavered.

"Fine, whatever." There were some topics she _would_ let go. "I still think you should worry less about me coming anywhere near where your dad could possibly be." And then there were ones she wouldn't.

Ayato stuffed his last dumpling into his mouth and arched his eyebrows at her, hoping his silence would drive his point.

"Even if he tried to start something, I think I could take him," Yuri reasoned.

He choked, roughly swallowing down the dumpling and struggling to keep a straight face.

"You?" he finally managed, snorting with laughter. "You're tiny!"

"I'm stronger than I look!" Yuri shot back, her cheeks flushed with indignation and a bit of humor.

"Good, because you _look_ petite and girlish."

"I'll show you petite and girlish." She moved her lunch off the table and replaced it with her elbow, propping her right arm up.

Ayato blinked slowly. "What are you doing?"

"Arm wrestle," Yuri said simply, through half-lidded eyes. "You and me, right now." She flexed her fingers invitingly.

"All right," he said with a sigh, moving his own box. "I'll wrestle your dainty little arm."

Propping his right arm on the table, he matched his hand up with hers and entwined them. Perhaps her skin wasn't princess-soft, but it was overwhelmingly clear which one of them hadn't worked with pottery a day in her life.

Still, after he called it and started pressing her down, he found himself frowning with strained effort. She was putting up a good fight, keeping them at a standstill no matter how stubbornly he tried to pin her.

Concentrating hard, he put more weight into it after too many seconds of their impasse, until she succumbed to his pressure by mere centimeters. But those were a few centimeters toward victory in his favor.

She bit her lip, pushing upwards valiantly, too proud to face an imminent failure. They gridlocked again. Ayato was about to give her some credit for her persistence—

—and then, with a smirk and a surge of strength, she sent his hand crashing to the tabletop.

"Hah!" Yuri jumped up from her seat. "How's that?!"

"Lucky win," Ayato said, massaging his poor victimized hand.

"You're supposed to say 'you're right, Yuri, you're so much stronger than I realized.'"

"Why would I be swooning?"

Yuri just grinned proudly at him, her triumphant hand on her cocked hip. He tried to fight a smirk of his own. She was so ridiculous.

"Don't get too sure of yourself," he said, crossing his arms in front of him. "You were up against my skinny twig arms."

"Don't downplay my victory!" she complained. "You might be lanky but you've got… pottery muscles."

He started cracking up. "What are pottery muscles?"

"These!"

Before he could open his mouth again, she'd grabbed the sleeve of his school uniform and yanked it up his arm, hoping to reveal whatever bulging pottery-related biceps she thought he had—but instead, revealing a lot more.

The purplish marks trailing up and down his arm weren't anything new to him, but Yuri… with Yuri there, peering down at them, they seemed to glare from his skin. It was almost like remembering he had a tongue, and then being entirely unable to _not feel it there._ Her hands were still on his arm, fingers grazing the sleeve and eyes glued to his bruises. And then she flicked her stare back to him.

Not good. Not good.

"We don't have to talk about this right now," Yuri said evenly, measuring her words, " _if_ you extend your little boundary rule."

Ayato sighed with relief.

"Fine," he said, and stopped her from rolling his sleeve back down. "On one more condition."

"Hmm?"

He thumped his arm back on the table upright.

"I want a rematch."

* * *

 **A/N: And _that's_ the origin of pottery muscles. Next chapter will be more eventful, as you may recognize from the previews, so stay tuned!**

 **Also, for those of you Heartbreak Cure readers, I managed to start Chapter 30 last night before I called for a homework hiatus. Man, it is so good to have an outline handy. Chapter 25 is the season finale, so the more chapters I have ready _after_ that, the surer I feel that I won't catch up with myself and leave anyone hanging. God bless solid schedules.  
**

 **See you next Saturday! (Can you believe it's September 2017? Somewhere in Mizuzaka, Naoi must be buying Yuri her anniversary locket...)**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Did he ever go to our school?"_

" _Just watch the game, smartass."_

" _You think she's_ cute!"

" _Do_ not _talk to her about feelings that don't exist."_

" _STOP TRYING TO BREAK MY FACE, YOU LOSER!"_

" _I knew I could take the blow."_

" _You don't deserve any of it."_

" _Yuri, this is a bad idea."_

[Chapter 06]: **Protective Shield.**


	6. Protective Shield

**A/N: I've been procrastinating a lot of things today, but a chapter posted around 6 to 7pm I always try to guarantee. Now, fingers crossed I can write an assignment due tomorrow at 5pm as easily as I can write NaYuri.**

 **Also... Happy Birthday, Zain!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 06]: Protective Shield_

* * *

Late May rolled into mid-June, and with every instance of Yuri taking advantage of their extended walk home without any incident, Ayato began to feel more and more daring.

It was almost like a game of chicken—see how long they could linger at the edge of the Naoi estate before he caught sight of Kimito in the distance or either one of them lost their nerve. Without fail, it would be Ayato who lost, but Yuri seemed to see an improvement.

She even convinced him to stay late to watch a baseball game being held at their school. Yuri was a very, very bad influence.

The baseball team from Kyuuya High School had come to play against Akuma. As such, there were some extra fans in the bleachers they didn't quite recognize. There was, however, one Kyuuya player on the field he had his eye on.

"Blue haired second-baseman looks familiar," Yuri said, nudging him.

"I was _just_ looking at him." Ayato squinted harder at the teen. He wished he had his own baseball cap to get the blazing June sun out of his eyes. Or any cap, really. If not, he could go for a cloud about now, so he could make out the guy's features more clearly. "Did he ever go to our school?"

Yuri scrunched up her nose in thought. "I don't think so."

Kurimu, one of the girls from his class, was up to bat. Lucky girl had a cap holding down her mound of honey-brown hair, and was twisting her hands determinedly at the handle.

"C'mon, Kurimu!" a voice screamed right next to Ayato's ear. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Ami was sitting on the bleachers behind them.

Farther down at the end of the bleachers in front of them, a Kyuuya girl with long navy hair sent a ruby-red glare of stern disapproval up in Ami's direction. Apparently he wasn't the only one who wanted to protect his hearing. When he tried to get a better look at her, she'd retreated into the shadows and hidden her face in a dark blue scarf.

Who wore a scarf around their neck on a hot day in _June_? Women were so strange with their fashion choices.

The girl behind her seemed a little smarter, the jacket of her Kyuuya uniform tied around her waist while she glugged soda from a can.

"What are you staring at?" Yuri asked, and he realized he'd been eyeing Kyuuya girls' side profiles a little too long.

"Your bewitching good looks," he said dryly. Sarcasm could get him out of anything with her—plus she hated to be called cute, and her reaction was almost always hilarious.

Crimson pooling in her cheeks, she squinted at him dangerously. "Just watch the game, smartass."

 _But you are so much more interesting,_ he wanted to say. He expertly kept his mouth shut, though; as much as he enjoyed teasing her, there was a limit to fake-flirting with Yuri. He'd been giving her permission—no, _encouraging_ her—to not treat him like a glass doll, so there was a good chance that she _would_ kick his ass someday.

To be honest, that was part of the reason he liked to push her buttons. She was careful with him, yes—but he liked her firecracker side.

"Strike two!" Ayato glanced back at the field, where Kurimu still stood with her bat.

Posing in a more hesitant stance, Kurimu's grip on the handle had slackened. She looked over her shoulder, and Ayato saw someone slouched lazily in the benches giving her a thumbs up. Kurimu seemed to brighten, and when the pitcher threw the ball at her a third time, she swung hard.

The center of the bat hit the ball with a deafening crack, sending it soaring into the air. The girl scampered all the way to third base as her teammates—and Ami—screamed. Even the lazy thumbs-upper from the benches—whom Ayato recognized as Hejjjiguchi—stood up and cheered Kurimu's name.

So those two were friends now? No wonder he'd stopped using her chair as a footrest.

When she ran to home base at the next hit, Hejjiguchi high-fived her, confirming Ayato's suspicions.

"I didn't even know she joined a baseball team," he said absently to Yuri after a couple of minutes, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bag in her lap.

"Who?" Yuri looked at him questioningly. She pointed to the benches, where Kurimu sat chatting with the team. "That girl? You know her?"

"That's Kurimu." He'd mentioned his classmate a couple times before, along with her abnormal politeness and red-orange ribbons in her mounds of almost floppy hair. "Same class."

"Oh yeah." Yuri sat up straighter, arching her neck and trying to scrutinize the bench area. "She's very cute."

Ayato frowned. Well, perhaps in an even-smaller-than-Yuri, shy, dainty princess kind of way. Her voice was very high-pitched—

"Oh my _gosh_!" squealed Ami from behind them. She leaned down and poked her head in, jade green eyes blazing with interest as they bored into his soul. "Naoi, you've been talking about Kurimu? Do you have a _crush_ on her?"

His face seared with red hot embarrassment. Of all the reasons for one of his classmates to suddenly realize he existed-!

"What? No!" he sputtered, waving his arms frantically in an awkward windmill motion. He stupidly almost smacked Yuri in the shoulder that way, but she looked too caught off-guard to care. _And_ she was raising her eyebrows at him, like that bit of information would intrigue her too.

Whatever happened to watching the game? If Yuri and Ami were paying attention, they would know that Kyuuya just got Akuma out and the teams were switching so that Kyuuya's players were up to bat. And the blue-haired guy that had caught Yuri's undivided attention earlier was walking up to the plate.

But no, instead it was _so_ much more interesting that he could be harboring romantic feelings for Ami's best friend. Even the soda-drinking pink-haired girl from earlier hollering at the guy at bat—he couldn't tell if she was cheering or jeering—didn't faze them. Although Yuri did look up for a moment when a shadow crept over them. Clouds were finally overpowering the sun, thank goodness.

"You think she's _cute_!" Ami gasped scandalously, clapping her hands to her mouth.

" _Yuri_ was the one who called her cute!"

"But you've been looking at her in class, haven't you?" said Ami. She brushed a lock of fuchsia hair behind her ear. "I can talk to her for you if you want—"

"You are being ridiculous!" He slapped a hand to his forehead. "Do _not_ talk to her about feelings that don't exist. Just go back to the game and stop spreading rumors of false love."

Heaving an exasperated sigh, he glared a warning at his classmate, then turned in his seat to face the game. The blue-haired guy at bat was standing there, impatiently tapping his bat against the plate and preparing a recovery after his first strike.

Ami didn't seem to register any of that. "I just thought this whole time that the girl you really had feelings for was—"

 _THWACK._

"YURI!"

As the foul ball ripped across the field towards their bleacher section, he lunged halfway in front of her to shield her from the hit. She squeaked in shock, but they'd both miscalculated the ball's direction. It veered to their right, toward the end of their bleacher row. The pink-haired girl let out a fearful shriek, throwing her arms up to shield her face.

The blow did not come. Reaching up, the navy-haired girl in front of her caught it with killer reflexes. Half of their bleacher section exhaled sharply; a sizeable chunk whistled and clapped.

After the Kyuuya girl hurled the ball back, she stared down at her hand. It looked like she had black arm guards, but even that would only soften the impact. Ayato heard her curse and clench her hand painfully, then mutter something that sounded like "not again" before she leaped over the side of the bleachers. The last anyone saw of her was the edges of her blue scarf fluttering in her wake before they disappeared along with her.

Meanwhile, the pink-haired girl who'd likely just seen her life flash before her eyes had leaped to her feet in outrage.

"STOP TRYING TO BREAK MY FACE, YOU LOSER!" she screamed, cupping her hands over her mouth.

The blue-haired would-be assassin waved sheepishly. "My bad!"

The girl sat back down, but peeked curiously over the edge of the bleachers. Probably searching for her mysterious savior.

"My bad," Ayato scoffed. He could literally hear Yuri's heart beating rapidly in her chest, or maybe that was his. "He nearly decapitated one of us, and all he says is 'my bad'? I'd like to take that bat to his face." He rubbed his chin. "Or better yet, use _him_ as a baseball bat."

That sounded kind of fun, actually. What if there was a way to convince someone that they were really a baseball bat?

A mind trick, perhaps. Like hypnotism.

"Calm down," said Yuri, patting his shoulder. When he glanced at her, she just shrugged. "You're probably never going to see him again."

Ayato grunted dismissively.

After fifteen more minutes of gameplay, the sky opened up and unleashed an early shower on the baseball players. Hejjiguchi had just hit a pop fly to second, and the blue-haired assassin redeemed himself to the crowd and his teammates by successfully catching it. His teammates cheered and carried him out of the rain. Ayato rolled his eyes.

Yuri hadn't brought a jacket, and although she hardly minded the rain, she was despondent at the popcorn getting soggy. A quick look at his watch told him he was really pushing it with Kimito at this point, so they fled the bleachers and headed down the road through town together. Ami was watching him as they left, so he figured he hadn't heard the end of her relationship gossip, but that was a matter for… preferably never.

They made good time getting a few blocks across town in this weather, but Yuri slowed her pace as they neared the road leading to the forest trail. Shaking her hair out, she breathed in the late spring air deeply.

He slowed down too, running a hand through his own damp hair as he watched her eyes close in contentment.

"The rain really doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Huh?" She opened her eyes again, while her head was still tilted back, and she yelped a little as a drop of rain landed in one of them.

He tried and failed to bite back a laugh as she stopped in her tracks and furiously rubbed it away. Once her vision finally cleared, she glowered at him.

"Not really. I love storms," she answered, once she was done fuming. "They're… eventful."

"Makes sense," Ayato said, considering, as they resumed walking. He assumed she ruled out snowstorms in that generalization. Still, he frowned. "But they would be hard to drive in."

He saw Yuri's expression fall out of the corner of his eye, just for a split second, but she picked herself back up again. He had to give her credit for her ability to be so unyielding. She was too obstinate to let anything keep her down.

"Well, of course I wouldn't drive in one," she said, rubbing her arm. "Not a bad one, at least. I admit, storms have always felt pretty ominous. But I've really grown to like them lately." Then she shrugged. "Don't know what it is, they're just invigorating."

"I know what you mean."

They arrived at the fork in the road, and Yuri marched ahead down the forest trail. The leaves on the trees shook with the wind, dripping cool rainwater on their cheeks, but on a hot day like this Ayato was grateful for it.

"So," he continued, arms crossed behind his back as they walked (he liked the regal feeling it gave him), "any kind of storm?"

"A thunderstorm is preferable."

"What about just rain?"

"Rain's nice. It's peaceful, but less exciting."

"Hmm," he agreed.

"Lightning really gets your heart going."

"So does a tornado."

Yuri laughed appreciatively. "I like the _concept_ of a tornado."

"The _concept_?" Ayato echoed, amused.

"Just… blowing everything into the air at two hundred kilometers per hour, making a mess and causing absolute chaos." Yuri grinned. "Kind of like—"

"—you," he finished for her.

"—coffee," she'd said at the same time.

"You after _drinking_ coffee," Ayato amended with a grin.

A snicker from Yuri. "Good compromise."

They continued on through the forest in silence for a minute, which gave him time to contemplate what he would do when he got home. If he had any sort of luck, his father would be at the shop and his mother would be waiting to pass along the message that Kimito expected him to "be productive." A code word that meant if he wasn't working on his studies, he'd better be in the workshop. Not just sitting around playing games.

Personally he thought staying in playing games was a perfect rainy day activity.

His inner monologue had been rather sassy as of late.

"So," Yuri spoke up, breaking into this thoughts, "about that little incident back at the baseball game."

He scoffed, thinking back. "You mean when Ami tried to say I had a crush on Kurimu? That girl is far too obsessed with love."

Raising her eyebrows, Yuri smirked at him. "No, but now I know where your mind is."

He gave her a meaningful, "don't _you_ start" scowl. It didn't seem to affect her, so he elected to happily let the matter drop. "You meant with the Kyuuya guy and his guillotine hit." Another scoff. "I swear, the Kyuuya students are a group of imbeciles."

Yuri paused, blinking a few times.

"Déjà vu," she said when he gave her a questioning look. "You say that a lot."

"That's because I'm surrounded by imbeciles," he returned confidently.

She crossed her arms.

"Except you," he corrected, "…usually."

More glaring, along with exasperated sighs that were obviously trying to cover up a smirk. Damp and annoyed was a good look for her. He decided he shouldn't say that out loud.

Then he remembered what started this conversation. "What _about_ it?"

Yuri hummed thoughtfully.

"You were trying to protect me back there," she said, brushing her wet bangs out of her eyes. He could see the grin on her face a little clearer. "That's my job."

That was true. As an older sister, she had more experience watching over the people she cared about. He didn't think he even looked out for his own mother the way Yuri did for him. Then again, it kind of felt like—save for the meals she made—there was an "each man for himself" theme in his household.

"It's a two-way street," he said after a moment, and Yuri smiled faintly. "Besides, I knew I could take the blow."

Her smile vanished.

Inwardly, Ayato cringed at himself, coming to a halt a second after she did. …Too direct?

"I'm sorry," he managed, turning to face her. As she took a step forward, he found himself wishing she would just slap him for it. "I know you wouldn't want to hear about all that—"

She flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a surprisingly strong embrace.

A hug… He hadn't had one of those in a while. Years, even. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands at first, his arms staying limply at his sides, until they eventually wrapped around her waist and snaked upward. He pulled her tighter, burying his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder. She clutched him back like he was the teddy bear she likely already had.

He never knew a hug could possibly make him feel so _complete_. And yet, holding her in his arms in the rain like this felt as comfortably familiar as it was divine.

Yuri pulled away first—if he could help it, he never would—but her hands lingered on his arms.

"Naoi, don't…" Her voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat before looking him in the eyes again. "Don't be a shield when you need one yourself."

Ayato softened, overcome by a whole new rush of fondness for her.

"Maybe I just don't want you to go through what I have." He tried to put on a stern face. "You don't always have to be the shield, you know."

"And you don't always have to be the victim," Yuri countered.

When her words sunk in, he pushed her away with a scowl. "I am not a victim!"

She stumbled back, looking affronted. "If the ball had hit you, you _would have_ been!" she said, shoving him back.

"No, I would have been the shield!"

"You're not getting it!" Yuri's whole body was vibrating, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Her eyes were wet, but hopefully that was coming from the rain. "Your reasoning for protecting me like that— _oh, don't worry, I get hurt all the time, I'm used to it!—_ is that supposed to make me _feel_ better?"

He glared at her. Of course it was, it was just the facts. "I'm just saying, better my arm or back than your head."

"Because your back can take a pounding, right?" she bit back, frowning.

"Yes!" he said, exasperated. Grabbing her right hand in one of his, he held his other one next to hers for comparison. "See this? Do you feel the difference? My hand is rougher than yours—because I've been working with pottery for over half a decade. It is _impossible_ for me to get a papercut. If I did, I wouldn't feel it."

Yuri stared at him blankly, as if silently urging him to get the point she was sure she wouldn't like.

"Because your hands are softer, that vase shard cut your finger badly." He pointed to her middle finger on display, which still had a little white scar where the piece had sliced her. "Do you get it now?"

She frowned, looking away. "I'm not a fragile doll."

"Neither am I. That's my point."

Her arms folded across her chest, but she appeared to be begrudgingly contemplating his words. Her eyes closed, and she let out that huff of air she did when she wasn't fully able to argue over something but didn't want to admit it in words. A small huff of acceptance.

"I'm sorry I called you a victim," Yuri said. She opened her eyes then, and let her arms fall at her hips. "I just don't like you resigning yourself to getting the hell beaten out of you."

He merely gave a grunt. That was life; nobody ever said it was fair. "Not much else I can do," he replied.

If he went to the police, he knew Kimito would get out of trouble with them one way or another. Something like that wouldn't stop him—it would just make him angry. And then he'd take it out on him and his mother as well.

Yuri pursed her lips into a tight line. Defeat wasn't something she took with grace. And helplessness, well, that was even worse.

"You don't deserve any of it," she muttered, looking downcast at her shoes. "I wish there was something—"

"The best thing you can do for me… you've already been doing." He laid a hand on her shoulder, which brought her gaze back up to him. A hint of understanding flashed through her eyes, followed by a wry half-smile.

"Fine, whatever." His favorite Yuri phrase in the world, and it was punctuated by a low rumble of thunder that made him shiver pleasantly. She tried to look stern, which was a feat considering her wet dog appearance. "But you know, I have just as much of a right to dive in front of a foul ball as you do."

Ayato winced. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"Hey, 'two-way street,' remember?" Yuri nudged him, a smug grin on her face. "Solidarity. It's what friends do."

"Friends let their friends take hits for them?"

"According to you, they do." Now he was starting to remember where he'd learned his sass. Still grinning, she raised her eyebrows at him. "I'll let you protect me as long as you let me protect you. That's my deal, so take it or leave it."

Considering the time, and the fact that he was dealing with one of the most stubborn women he'd ever met, he figured he'd better take it.

"Fine," he conceded, accepting her outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. "It's a deal."

"Good." Satisfaction taking over her features, Yuri smiled brightly at him—then tightened her grip and yanked him along down the path as she broke into a brisk half-walk, half-jog through the forest.

"Whoa—whoa—whoa, what are you doing?!" Ayato stumbled to keep up with her at first, more than a little dazed. The back of his mind started chattering nervously when the end of the trail popped into sight and she was far from slowing down.

"Rain's coming down harder," she said innocently. "Just trying to get you to shelter."

Sure enough, he could hear an increase in the patter of rain against the leaves on the treetops. But the unyielding grip on his hand coupled with the determined gleam in her eye suggested ulterior motives. A lick of panic bubbled up in his throat.

"Yuri—" He cursed under his breath and cleared his throat. Really? A voice crack? He was almost seventeen, for crying out loud. "Yuri, this is a bad idea."

They were passing the workshop now, closing in on the house. No sign of Kimito, but if he was in the workshop he could have easily looked out the window and seen his son being marched onto the estate God knows how late by none other than Yuri Nakamura. Though the workshop door did not swing open with a flourish, Ayato's mind was still not at rest as Yuri led him all the way up the slope to the front door of his house.

The house door, however, did fly open. But it wasn't Kimito who was waiting for him on the other side.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Where in the world have you been?!"_

" _It's a shame this didn't happen sooner."_

" _This is the most sedentary I've ever seen you."_

" _Just like his father."_

" _I don't want him to_ see _her!"_

" _Was that okay?"_

" _It isn't you I'm embarrassed of."_

[Chapter 07]: **Mother.**


	7. Mother

**A/N: Just a couple of announcements - my Vaio laptop had a nasty fall a couple of weeks back. Hinge broken, hard drive damaged. It's headed to a data recovery place to see what can be done. Good news? I have a storage blog where I keep my fics almost fully updated. (Don't fly too close to the sun, kids, always back up your fics.) Annoying news? I'd edited the documents since then, so I don't know if the version I recovered is missing vital revisions or not. So I figure, if I do get my data back, I'll replace the chapters I've uploaded since then and I'll let you know which chapters have been changed.**

 **In lighter news, according to the Heartbreak Cure timeline, today is Naoi and Yuri's third anniversary! I've checked Japan's time zones so the moment is sort of long gone, but just think, somewhere in Mizuzaka a few hours ago Yuri and Naoi were walking home from their broken down car. (Also, that means a little over two weeks from now is Iwasawa's fateful concert, which marks the return of Heartbreak Cure).**

 **So anyways, that's why I'm updating on a Wednesday. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 07]: Mother_

* * *

"Where in the world have you been?!" his mother cried, waving a wooden spoon in her hand. Some strands of her dark hair had come loose from her normally neat bun, while others had begun to frizz. She looked disheveled, tired, and relieved but in a lingering frantic way. "You're lucky your father is still at the shop! He—"

She paused. Blinked twice. Stared at them with a peculiar expression on her face. It occurred to Ayato that Yuri still had a firm grasp on his wrist. But perhaps it was more that they must have looked a sight, with rain sticking their dampened hair to their chins and their uniforms to their skin. Raindrops were dribbling down his forehead and he could taste them on his lips.

"Sorry to keep him out so late, Mrs. Naoi," Yuri said with a friendly smile. She unhooked her hand from Ayato's and clasped both of hers in front of her before giving his mother a small bow of greeting. "There was a baseball game after school, and I just happen to appreciate his company."

The spoon fell to the floor with a rattling clatter. His mother's whole face lit up in a way that made her look years younger.

"Ayato, aren't you going to introduce me to your cute new girlfriend?" she asked smoothly, somehow managing to control her heart-eyes.

Wait— _girlfriend?!_

Face simmering, Ayato opened his mouth to correct her, but found himself embarrassingly tongue-tied. Luckily, Yuri stepped forward and covered for him.

"I'm Yuri. Yuri Nakamura." She awarded his mother a cordial smile, which she returned. "It's a shame this didn't happen sooner. Your son was just a little nervous about taking me home to meet the folks."

Ayato glared at her, shooting her a warning "don't encourage her" look. And hey—his _mother_ could call her cute, but when _he_ did it he got his ear tweaked?

"I understand. His father can be a bit overbearing," his mother said with a nod. She wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron. "Would you like to come in? Usually my husband prefers that Ayato keep himself busy when he gets home from school, but he won't be home for at least half an hour. Such a hard worker, that man."

Ayato couldn't remember the last time his mother had talked so much and been this… cheerful. His amazement died down when she spoke about Kimito with adoration. Just this morning he'd made a critical comment about her size, and yet hours later she had a kind word for him. It made his stomach turn.

She side-stepped, motioning them inside. "At least come out of the rain. I made tea, if you'd like some."

"Yuri's more of a coffee drinker," Ayato said.

Yuri elbowed him in the side, then flashed his mother a warm grin. "I'll make an exception for you, Mrs. Naoi."

His mother beamed. "And she's charming too. Come on in, I won't leave a sweet girl like you out in this miserable weather."

Ayato waited until his mother turned around and disappeared into the house, then cast Yuri a disbelieving glance and tugged on her sleeve.

"What the hell are you up to?" he hissed aside to her, but she escaped his grip with a light shrug.

"What? Tea sounds good right now."

He had a feeling her motives were more than just drying off and being cordial, but he shook the rain out of his hair and followed the two of them inside once he'd slipped out of his shoes.

Not that it came as a surprise, but his mother was a gracious hostess. A better host than he was being, anyway, as his gaze kept switching toward the window every ten seconds. After he took the first sip of the green tea his mother placed in front of him, however, he felt his nerves melting away ever-so-slowly. It was one of the more popular comfort teas she served him after fights, so he'd come to associate it with peace.

His eyes wandered to Yuri, who was sitting on his right side at the table. She seemed to enjoy it too. The muscles in her face relaxed, and she closed her eyes as she breathed in the steam. It was soothing just watching her.

When he finally glanced away, his mother was… scrutinizing him. Once caught, she averted her eyes and turned back to the meal she was cooking, but he could still see a smile on her face. He hesitated as he brought his cup to his lips. What was she so happy about? He hadn't seen her look at him like that before, or even smile afterwards. If he had, it'd been too long ago for him to remember.

Unless…

Ayato frowned and took another thoughtful sip.

Was it just something mothers did when their children brought home friends from school? It wasn't like he would know anything about that. Hayato hadn't had time for any of those either. When it wasn't just his father and his brother spending the work day together, they were each other's only playmates.

But life was different now.

He had Yuri. And maybe that was another thing that distanced him from his brother. It made them different, distinctive.

The thought made him grin. He was the first to bring a friend under Kimito's roof. That alone warmed him just as much as the tea did, and gave him a fonder appreciation for Yuri's bold little game of chicken.

"Thank you for the tea," said Yuri, in a tone so mellow and respectful that it caught Ayato off-guard. She gave his mother an appreciative nod. All this from a coffee-addict, Ayato mused to himself. But his mother perked up so much, it was as if the woman had tasted coffee herself.

"It's no trouble at all." She folded her hands in front of her flour-dusted apron, bowing her head in return. "After all, I had to reward you for walking my son home in the middle of such a downpour."

Yuri shrugged. "Eh… rain or shine, he's just nice to have around." She winked, then flashed his mother a little grin. It was possible she was already more comfortable with her than he was. "I had a good time watching the game with him. Though I hope I haven't been keeping the two of you from anything important."

His mother hesitated at first, but waved it off.

"It's just not sensible to send H—" Another millisecond of hesitation, followed by a small strangled noise he recognized, a haunting look, and a pained grimace. She cleared her throat. "To send him straight to work when he comes home soaking wet. Especially on the rare occasion that we have guests present." Turning back to the stove, she poured another cup of tea. "He can start when his father gets back. For now, I think he could use the break. Don't you?"

"I'll say!" Smirking, Yuri elbowed him in the side. "It was hard enough to get the guy to sit down and see something fun today."

He almost didn't hear her. The only reason he did was due to the fact that he'd heard his mother call him Hayato a million times before, and catch herself in the middle of saying it a million times again. He should be used to it. Used to her coping mechanism of turning around and averting her eyes, avoiding his face. She certainly was no stranger to her habit. The woman had mastered the skill of regaining her composure by now.

But the idea of his mother calling him by his brother's name in front of _Yuri_ was a whole new level of mortifying. He was glad she'd caught herself. And relieved Yuri hadn't caught on to her burning embarrassment. It was so subtle and contained, so adapted over time, that only Ayato detected her aura of shame. How long would it last this time? That was his only question at this point.

He never liked to linger over his mother's hiccups; she could usually tell when he did, and that made them go on for even longer. Instead, he registered Yuri's comment and shook himself out of his daze.

"You're one to talk," Ayato said with a scoff, feeling the onset of a returning grin. "You never stand still! This is the most sedentary I've ever seen you."

That wasn't entirely true, but it was close. She did have a few lazy moments in the empty club room, stretching out or kicking up her feet as she sipped her coffee. Usually, though, that coffee would only serve to stimulate her. He could no longer count on one hand the number of times he'd come looking for her outside for lunch and found her climbing the damned tree.

And then there were the times she hopped on top of one of the brick walls around the school grounds and treated them like balance beams. Or even hurdles. He hardly believed he'd ever live up to her kind of pep.

"I did gymnastics when I was a kid! It's ingrained," said Yuri, crossing her arms. Ayato raised his eyebrows in interest. That was something he actually hadn't learned about her before, though he should have guessed it. She bit her lip, knitting her eyebrows together for a second, but then her strange expression vanished as quickly as the subject changed. Her attention switched to Ayato's mother at the stove. "What's that you're making?"

"Why, korokke of course," said his mother. He was grateful for the subject change too. Though her face was still hidden, her posture had straightened and he could see her cheering up already. Talking about food could do that to her.

Besides, korokke was always relevant to his interests. He knew he recognized that smell!

"Potato or kabocha?" Ayato asked.

She blinked, glancing over her shoulder at him, and it occurred to him that he'd barely said anything to her since he got home. Why hadn't he noticed that? Maybe it was just another thing he was used to.

"Potato korokke tonight." Smiling, she turned to acknowledge Yuri, and lowered her voice as if sharing some juicy gossip. "Besides anpan, it's his favorite food." With a light laugh, she went back to the stove. "Just like his father."

He froze. Gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. He felt Yuri's eyes on him more consciously than he felt her hand on his own, and he tried to relax. But now he remembered part of the reason he couldn't keep up a conversation with… with Kimito's wife.

The fact that she could in good conscience ever _compare_ him to that man…!

Even sharing his blood disgusted him. What was the damn point of commenting that they liked the same food?!

He tried to choke down his rage with a generous swallow of tea. It was still hot, but scalding his tongue felt better than snapping at his mother. She had enough to deal with. Besides, it was a better distraction.

He didn't even realize his hands were shaking that much until Yuri touched them again to steady them. Exhaling quietly so as not to draw attention from his mother, he looked toward Yuri to offer her an apologetic quirk of his mouth. He was aiming for a half-smile at least, though it felt more like a grimace. But then he caught a glimpse out the window of a figure emerging from a forest path. And his nerves made a vicious return, along with a sweeping wave of nausea.

Speak of the wretched devil.

He felt his tea making a comeback in the form of bile in his throat. Taking Yuri's hand, he leapt to his feet and brought her up with him. The rain was letting up significantly; he should be able to sneak her out and send her on her way with no trouble.

"Mother, Yuri has to go," he said, and the older of the two women gave him a look like he might as well have just insulted her entire family.

"Well, that's very rude—"

"Father's on his way home," Ayato insisted, "and you know I should have started my chores an hour ago."

His mother looked conflicted. "Your schedule isn't skintight…"

"Tell that to him."

An empty suggestion, actually. Knowing his father and his mother, he would advise against that course of action. He didn't like the look of consideration that crossed her face.

"I don't see why you're kicking her out like this—why she has to leave right _away_ —"

"I don't want him to _see_ her!" Ayato snarled.

His mother recoiled, taken aback at his words. Still, understanding flooded her tired features. A sad sort of sympathy that made his old bruises ache just by looking her in the eyes, so he cut his gaze to the side.

"Then at least walk the poor girl home," she said after a pause.

Ayato gaped at her, because he couldn't possibly have heard that correctly. Did she completely forget the other issue here?

"But—"

"She walked _you_ home. Obviously you enjoy each other's company. Why don't you do the same for her?" she pressed, placing her hands on her hips. "At least halfway. You weren't going to just send her away without walking her out like a gentleman, were you?"

Well, he hadn't thought things through that far—having a rapidly approaching Kimito Naoi on his mind—but no, when she put it like that…

"But my chores…?" he said feebly.

"I'll tell your father that a classmate walked you home, and that it was in the best interest of the Naoi name that you returned the favor." His mother nodded toward Yuri. Perhaps she had recognized the name Nakamura. "It's the truth, so I'm sure he'll see reason. You'll get right to work when you get back."

Ayato stared at his mother, then at Yuri. It _was_ only polite. And he didn't have enough time to decide for sure if he could get away with this. What struck him was the realization that at the moment, he didn't care. He gave Yuri a look to confirm, and she nodded.

After Yuri bowed respectfully to his mother and thanked her for her hospitality, Ayato locked his hand with hers and led her out the back door. They snuck around the side of the house, pressing against the walls until Ayato came to a stop at a corner and motioned for Yuri to wait.

The expression on Kimito's face was hard to make out. Lingering storm clouds coupled with the approaching nightfall and the shade of the roof made Kimito's features even darker. From the rough sound of his breathing, riddled with mutterings and sighs, he was done with people for the day. Maybe after working a couple of extra hours, he would just want dinner and a long rest.

Ayato frowned, peering over his shoulder at Yuri. Why did her optimism have to be so ridiculously contagious?

A board creaked under his feet.

Ayato glanced down sharply, cursing under his breath for shifting his weight onto the other leg like that. The audible muttered self-deprecation again did nothing for his nerves, and neither did Yuri's gestures for him to keep it down.

They both held their breath as Kimito stood in place like a soldier. Ayato could even swear he saw the old man's ear twitch. When all he heard was a cicada buzz, he harrumphed, pulled open the front door, and disappeared inside the house.

Once the door shut behind him, they lit out.

He knew Kimito could look out one of the windows on his way to the kitchen and spot them, so they had to be quick about it. Down the slope, past the workshop, onto the trail. Only once they'd made it into the forest did he stop to catch his breath.

When he managed to control his heart rate and breathing, he looked up to see Yuri leaning patiently against the trunk of a tree. Her lips were pursed into a pensive frown, her arms were crossed, and apparently she hadn't even broken a sweat.

"You done?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, we can't all be former gymnasts like you."

Yuri's frown deepened.

"After our talk earlier, you still don't want him to see me?" she asked, quiet but matter-of-fact.

Ayato groaned. Not this again. "And what would you do if he saw you?" Yuri opened her mouth to say something, but he continued. "Better yet, what do you think _he_ would do?"

"Let you off the hook again, probably," Yuri considered.

"Don't press your luck." Breaking into a brisk walk down the trail, he motioned for her to follow. "Haven't you ever heard of 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'?"

"That's about repeated lies losing their credibility."

"He's going to get tired of you asserting yourself and using your parents as an excuse. He'll get mad that he has to bend to a little girl's will."

Yuri scoffed. "And what's he going to do about it?"

Sighing, Ayato ran a hand through his hair. That sheer illusion of invincibility was inspiring sometimes—but when it came to her talking about Kimito, it just terrified him.

"I know you have this great daydream of facing off against him," he said, closing his eyes and trying to breathe in the evening air. "I appreciate what you want to do for me. Just…" With a wince, he touched her shoulder. "Ease up a tad…?"

The evening went quiet for a moment, enough to hear her suck in a breath. When she released it, it was in the form of a soft chuckle. "I guess I _am_ already winning our game of chicken."

Though he laughed with her, she tensed afterwards, her forehead creasing.

"Walked right into your house. Even met your mom." She rubbed the back of her head, glancing at him furtively before fixing her eyes on the road. "Was… was that okay?"

"Yeah. It was fine." He knit his brows in thought, remembering how different his mother's demeanor had been. How drastically her expression had changed when she first saw her. "I think that made her happy."

Yuri broke into a smug smile. " _I_ think she didn't want me to leave." After another shared snicker, Yuri bumped his arm with her shoulder. "Unlike _you_."

"Hey–!"

"I know, I know. You have your reasons." She held up her hands in mock surrender as they rounded the trail. "It's just hard to remember that when you're shooing me out the door. I feel like a damn mistress."

"It isn't you I'm embarrassed of," was his reply.

A lingering pause. "I know that."

Although he sensed the understanding in her tone, he subtly moved closer to her during their trek. If she thought he was eager to get rid of her because he didn't enjoy her company, she was terribly misleading herself.

He could even safely argue that once they emerged from the forest and pressed on a couple extra blocks, the "I'll find my way from here" was as painful for him to hear as it was for her to say.

He turned his back first, so he wouldn't have to see the look. Her "goodbye" look, the one that reminded him of what he was walking away from and what he was walking back to. He couldn't imagine anything worse than that look, so he nodded at her and mumbled a quick "see you tomorrow" before turning on his heel.

"Naoi, wait."

The tug on his sleeve and the tone of her voice implored him to stop in his tracks. When he turned back to her, searching for an answer, the usual determination on her face had a hint of bashfulness he'd only seen a handful of times since they'd met.

"You aren't like him, you know. Or else I wouldn't want to be around you so much." Yuri released her grip on his sleeve, letting her arms fall loosely to her sides. She broke eye contact, chewing the inside of her cheek and restlessly switching to a crossed-arms stance.

Ayato held back half a grin. There went that inability to sit still he mentioned earlier.

She let out a small puff of air, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "I guess the reason I keep pushing the boundaries isn't just the protection thing," she said, pursing her lips in thought. "It's because I can't stand the idea of a guy like him keeping me from spending time with someone like you."

"Same here." He rested a hand on her shoulder, bringing her gaze back up to his. "Believe me, I don't want him controlling this aspect of my life any more than he has to. But to tell you the truth, I think the more we talk about this, the more control he has over it."

"I see." She tilted her head, mulling it over. "When it comes to boundaries, we'll go at your pace from now on. Sound good?"

That sounded fair, so he gave a light nod. "Yeah. Sounds good."

"Good. I mean, the way we're going, I'm going to get you into trouble one of these days," Yuri said with a wry grin, which faded a few seconds later. She threw him a fleeting wave and started to turn towards home. "See you tomorrow, Naoi."

"Ayato."

She halted in mid-step. Pivoted to face him again. "Huh?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he offered her a shy grin. She couldn't be the only one making the next steps.

"You can call me Ayato. I'd like you to," he said, carefully reading her reaction. "If you're okay with it."

The smile slowly returned to her lips.

"Ayato, then," Yuri said, a brighter twinkle in her eye. She threw him a more cheerful salute before taking off again. "See you later, Ayato!"

He'd only ever heard her say his name once before, back when they'd first met. To her, he had never been Hayato, and now he wasn't just Naoi like his father. He was always Ayato Naoi.

He was Ayato, and he had a feeling he was going to get used to hearing her saying that.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _It's about time you woke up."_

" _You know I don't drink coffee."_

" _I don't need to hear your dirty dreams about me!"_

" _She won't stop staring!"_

" _Maybe you can help clear something up for us."_

" _You understand jokes, don't you Hejjiguchi?"_

" _I wouldn't want her to get hurt."_

[Chapter 08]: **Fatigue and a Fantasy.**


	8. Fatigue and a Fantasy

**A/N: I shouldn't be updating this so frequently... I haven't added onto the story in so long. And yet? There are certain chapters I want published before certain HC chapters. But also I like supplying NaYuri fluff.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 08]: Fatigue and a Fantasy_

* * *

His mother didn't ask why he didn't want Kimito to see her, and since he didn't get much scrutiny or attention from the old man—no more so than normal—he guessed she hadn't told him about her either. Or she hadn't mentioned her by name.

Though Ayato appreciated that he could trust her at least that much, he had to silently admit to himself that informing Kimito of the identity of the student he walked home might have saved him some korokke and gruff passive-aggression.

"If you want more dinner, come home in time for it," Kimito had said simply. Ayato had only fifteen minutes of dinner and potato korokke indulgence before Kimito herded him into the workshop for training. Fortunately, dinner was quiet, and his optimistic thoughts had been correct—Kimito barely had an hour left in him before he gave in to his fading energy and called it a night.

Ayato stayed half an hour longer by his father's orders, but it could have been worse. It really could have been worse.

It got worse.

Kimito was the type of man to hold on to grudges. It took a couple of busy weeks, but after a particularly grueling Thursday, he managed to come home early in a fit of frustration. It only grew worse after Ayato took ten extra minutes coming home to talk to Yuri about the stifling July heat and her desire to go to the beach. Ayato had been taking another minute or two every other day, testing the waters and trying to inconspicuously stretch out his arrival time to see how long he could go before Kimito noticed.

That day, Kimito noticed. Fuming about the training time they'd lost two weeks ago and today, he insisted Ayato make up for it tonight.

"Your brother had a gallery full of work better than this by the time he was nine!" Kimito had barked, gesturing to the vases and dishware in the corner of the workshop. "This is an embarrassment!"

Ayato didn't get any studying done that day. The training was merciless and went on for hours; he didn't even get to bed until after midnight. Yet his father still woke him up early to tackle his chores. Ayato had tried to get them out of the way last night to save himself some time for sleep, but Kimito wasn't satisfied and somehow managed to find a part of the floor he had to sweep or some tools he had to clean.

He was really pushing it on time before Kimito finally freed him to go to school. The man brusquely pointed out that "you can make it if you walk fast," which, although running on fumes of sleep and no food, Ayato promptly did.

Yuri wasn't waiting for him by the time he made it to the fork in the trail. He was too tired to blame her. Honestly, even through his sleepy haze of despondency, he understood. Being late to school brought her unwanted attention and whispers. Besides, when her parents came home, they preferred to hear about perfect attendance and good grades.

But the more he thought about it as he sprinted to school, the more he worried. Which at least kept him from falling asleep in class, something he'd learned from Hejjiguchi never to do in front of their teacher. Thanks to Ami and her gossip-powered mind, along with his nearly-late arrival today, he no longer had the power of complete invisibility in that class anyway.

Instead, his thoughts kept him awake. What if Yuri thought he was hurt, and she had to think about that all day? She shouldn't have to be thinking about that. Now that it was July, she should be daydreaming about summer vacation and her birthday near the end of the month. Or even that trip to the beach she'd mentioned. It was like he'd told her before, he didn't want to be a burden.

Maybe instead, she thought he was just sick. That meant she might not be looking for him for lunch today. She might end up eating on the rooftop like she used to.

He considered waiting for her there, but since it was so warm out, there was a very good chance it would be too crowded for his tastes.

By the time History let out, his brain had ultimately decided that sleep was more important than lunch. Exhausted, he made his way on autopilot to the empty club room—though it was perfect weather for eating under the tree, the club room was closer—and passed out in the corner.

* * *

 _He awoke in the student council room, his head buried in his arms as he rested on the rectangular council table, to the sound of three other members chattering on the other side of the table without him. They didn't even seem to register the fact that he'd been sleeping._

 _Maybe he hadn't been sleeping there after all? He didn't remember falling asleep in this room, let alone in his chair. Maybe his memory was messing with him._

 _Brushing it off, he stood up and pushed in his chair, then eyed the other three appraisingly. As if that suddenly catapulted his presence into the room with them, they let their discussion die down and turned to him with expectant gazes. They wanted his input. And why wouldn't they? As current vice president…_

 _Vice president?_

 _Right. He didn't question the title for more than a second. He didn't recall becoming vice president, but then again he didn't recall being in this room either. He just was._

 _As he tried to piece together what they'd been discussing in this council room just now, he picked up the sound of footsteps in the hall. They had a soft patter to them that only a small part of him recognized, but they grew louder until they stopped just outside the room._

 _The door to the student council room slid open, prompting him and the three fellow council members to turn in its direction. Though he tried to conceal it, Ayato's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the person standing in the doorway._

 _Yuri Nakamura. But she was wearing a uniform that was entirely different from the usual female student's attire. How rebellious. Part of him recognized her, but for some reason he felt like in this situation they weren't entirely familiar with each other. She looked at him coolly, sizing him up as if he were an interesting stranger._

 _Giving her the same regard, he tipped his hat in respect as she approached him. "What can I help you with?" The words flowed out of his mouth naturally. He felt like he'd said them before. And the hat had apparently been around for so long that tipping his hat was a reflex._

 _A devilish grin played across her lips. That didn't look like a good sign. But the headband with the green bow suited her. Was it new? No, it couldn't be._

" _We would like to reserve the mountains for a picnic this golden week," Yuri said, an air of authority and confidence in her voice. "Can we get the student council's permission for that?"_

 _Ayato narrowed his eyes. One part of him wanted to let her have her way, but the other sensed mischief radiating from her._

" _All right," he said at last. This conflict of mindsets had felt like a heavy weight on his chest, but now he felt a strange sense of calm as he turned to the council members. "Can someone bring me the event application form?"_

" _I'll get it," said one boy. Or he must have grunted something to volunteer, because the next thing Ayato knew—like a time skip—he was handing an application form and pen to Yuri. Another thing he didn't care to question._

" _Fill this out and return it to me," Ayato instructed to this differently-dressed Yuri with her hand on her hip. "We'll commence a vote at the conference."_

 _Yuri stared down at the form blankly for a second, then heaved a sigh._

" _Whatever Mister Brain-dead NPC says." She took both paper and pen out of his hands and walked up to the whiteboard on the wall for support._

 _Ayato stared after her in disbelief, trying to contain his indignation but still raising both eyebrows at her. She had better be kidding about that non-player character comment! He was just as intelligent—and as sentient—as she was._

 _He must have zoned out while watching her, because a moment later a paper was being held out to him expectantly. Filled out and signed appropriately, from what he could tell at a glance._

" _Here you go," Yuri said, beaming as he accepted it like she hadn't just tried to give him an existential crisis. "I'm counting on you to get it approved."_

 _What an interesting character she was. He eyed her thoughtfully as she turned on her heel and sauntered out the door._

" _I can't make any promises," he heard himself saying, and her only response was a lackadaisical wave._

 _Just before she pulled the door shut behind her, the room flickered into blackness._

* * *

After a couple of blinks, he was in the club room again. Less dead tired, but his price for a moment of rest was disorientation. But wait… just how long was a moment?

He bolted upright, heart pounding erratically, and checked his watch through still bleary eyes trying to make out the numbers.

"Relax. You haven't missed anything."

Sitting next to him with a half-eaten sandwich in hand, Yuri popped the lid of her Key coffee and guzzled it down. She sighed contentedly, refreshed and grinning as the drink entered her system. "It's about time you woke up."

"You could have woken me," Ayato countered, squinting and trying to register that she was really here with him. "I'd hate to stand between you and Key coffee."

Yuri frowned. "But it looked like you needed the rest."

Sighing, Ayato leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. That dream… it was disappearing already, but having Yuri here kept a few elements of it still clinging to his memory. He glanced over at her, tired but regretful.

"Sorry I didn't walk to school with you today," he said, feeling around for his lunch. "Morning chores kept me."

"Why are you so tired?"

"Kimito had me training for hours last night." Ayato tried and failed to suppress a yawn. "Didn't get to bed until after one in the morning. I can count the hours I've slept on one hand."

Yuri handed him her can of Key coffee. "Here. Maybe this'll wake you up."

"You know I don't drink coffee," Ayato said, taking it anyway. The smell of most coffee repulsed him; it was too potent. He couldn't imagine this canned drink she got from the school vending machine was any better.

"Yeah? Well, two weeks ago, I drank tea," said Yuri.

" _Everyone_ drinks tea!" Ayato countered, giving her a dubious look. "And don't even pretend you didn't like it!"

She laughed at him, gesturing to the can he was waving in his hand. "Look, you haven't even had any yet and it's already got you all riled up and energized. Talk about a powerful stimulant."

He scoffed. "Please. _You're_ my stimulant."

The silence that fell over them as Yuri stopped laughing—more like _choked_ to a stop—was jarring. Yuri looked like she wasn't sure which one of them should be embarrassed, her expression wavering between startled surprise and an amused smile.

Well, he was glad _she_ found the humor in it, but his face felt like it was on fire. The thing about fake-flirting was that if it was unplanned, it wasn't fake. He needed a quick distraction. Clenching his jaw, he averted his eyes. Then, to keep himself from saying anything else ridiculous, he took a generous swig of Key coffee.

It was sweet. Bitter. Admittedly invigorating. He could taste the appeal.

"I'm still a tea person," he told her, "but that is pretty good."

"I know. Give it back."

He handed it over, chuckling as she started guzzling it again. While she was distracted, he dug into his own lunch. The taste of coffee had reminded him he was running on an empty stomach. They might not have much time left due to his little nap, but he'd enjoy the rest with her while he could.

"So," Yuri said, frowning and shaking the can again in chagrin once she realized she was running dry. "What were you dreaming about?"

Ayato swallowed a mouthful of rice very carefully. Choking and blushing again would not be ideal, but the dream had involved her. Not something he wanted to confess to as a follow-up to his previous remark. She might start to think he was in love with her, and their friendship was complicated enough already.

"Nothing much. For a dream, it was pretty uneventful." He shrugged, deciding to keep it simple. "Except it was golden week and I was student council vice president for some reason, and you came to ask permission for—"

Yuri thumped his shoulder. "I don't need to hear your dirty dreams about me!"

"I said it was uneventful!" he shot back, scooting away and jabbing a finger in her smirking face. "Get your own mind out of the gutter, idiot. Don't we have better things to talk about? Like summer break and your birthday, for example?"

"Hm." Yuri looked considering. "What about it?"

What about it, indeed. Her parents had come home on the first of July and were planning to spend as much of her birth month as they could with her. He knew how happy she was about that.

"Well, what do you want for your birthday?"

Yuri tilted her head at him. "From you?"

"In general," he corrected.

She had to think about it for a minute, finishing off her sandwich. Then she did a small sighing huff eerily identical to the one in his dream. "I guess… just the company of the people I love most, and a trip to the beach."

Ayato blinked. "That's it?"

"I don't know!" She crossed her arms, crinkling her forehead. "The closer you get to your birthday, the more presents you forget you wanted all year."

"Oh, boohoo," said Ayato derisively, munching on korokke.

"You'll see." Yuri gave a dismissive wave of her hand, then checked the clock on the wall. "Almost time for class. Hey, speaking of which, has Ami given you any more trouble?"

At the very mention of the girl's name, Ayato uttered a long, loud groan, which made Yuri snort. He'd been lucky so far in not hearing anything from Kurimu, but that didn't mean much since she was shy. As it was, he could feel eyes on him at least once every day during his first class.

"Ami says Kurimu would talk to me more if I wasn't so intimidating," he said, prompting even more laughter from Yuri as she stood up. "They're passing notes, I think. She won't stop staring!"

"Which one? Ami?" Yuri asked. When he nodded, her grin grew wider. "Maybe _she_ likes you."

"That's about as likely as Masuda failing a History exam." Ayato started gathering up his lunch before getting to his feet and following her to the door.

"Masuda's the only one besides you who even stays awake in that class. You must be pretty sure."

He closed the door behind them and they exited into the hallway.

"Of course I'm sure," he said, squaring his shoulders with eyes in hindsight unwisely closed. "Ami will get tired of this eventually because I'm giving her nothing to go on. But right now, the only thing in that strange, love-infested little head of hers is Kurimu and me…"

And then, a few feet in front of him, someone cleared their throat.

Ayato snapped to attention. Thank goodness that Yuri's Key coffee was still in his system, or it was possible he wouldn't have been able to open his eyes again. Though he was a little unsure of the person who'd brought him to a halt.

Souma Hejjiguchi stood in their path, his arms folded across his chest. He had a friendly grin on his face, but it seemed unnervingly shallow. Tentative.

"Hey," he said cheerily. "Naoi, right?"

"Yeah…?" Ayato narrowed his eyes, although vaguely attempting to be cordial. Much like the incident with Ami, conversing with other classmates was an irregularity. "And you're Hejjiguchi, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's me!" Hejjiguchi flashed him a thumbs up and wink. Oh no, he was one of _those_ people.

"Is there something you wanted?" Yuri asked. Although he was sure she needed to get back to class, she wasn't about to leave him alone in the middle of a conversation with someone. He was too introverted for that. How he managed to find a friend like her in this disastrous life, he would never know.

Hejjiguchi switched his attention to her. "Hey, Nakamura!" he said, as if just noticing she was there. Ayato wasn't sure he liked the way he was looking at her. "My friends and I were just wondering… maybe you can help clear something up for us. What are you to Naoi? Are you his girlfriend?"

Yuri blinked twice before answering. "His friend," she corrected.

Ayato frowned. Why did Hejjiguchi ask her and not him about something like that? In fact, if he had asked him what Yuri was to him, he would have said "best friend." It seemed like a stronger, more fitting title for what they had. Since "blood bond" wasn't something they'd used in a while, and Hejjiguchi wouldn't understand anyway. He didn't want to waste his breath explaining their connection to someone like him.

"Okay. So you won't mind if I grill him about his crushes," Hejjiguchi said, sporting a mischievous grin.

Yuri quirked an eyebrow. "…Oh, you mean his undying love for Kurimu Aoki?"

"That's the one!"

"Yuri!" Ayato snapped his head around to gape at her indignantly. Blood bond and best friend indeed!

"Sorry, gotta get to class!" she chirped. Then, aside to him, she added under her breath, "Good luck falling asleep after this one."

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and brushed past Hejjiguchi. The guy glanced over his shoulder to watch her go, then, shaking his head, he turned back to Ayato with a grin.

"Buddy, I know we have class too—"

"So can we make this quick?" Ayato interrupted, though he wasn't sure why he was being so short with him. He'd chalk it up to a caffeine crash and sleep deprivation.

Another thumbs up from Hejjiguchi. "The only way I know how," he said smoothly. "I was going to ask you about your intentions with Kurimu, but I think Nakamura just made things pretty clear."

"That was a joke," said Ayato, feeling his patience wane. "You understand jokes, don't you Hejjiguchi?"

"Are you kidding? I love jokes." Hejjiguchi continued to smile. "Nakamura's a funny girl."

"Oh, she's hilarious."

"I like funny girls," Hejjiguchi noted, and Ayato bristled. It must have been noticeable, because Hejjiguchi's eyes widened a little. "Kurimu's funny too."

If it were possible, cartoonish question marks might very well have appeared over Ayato's head.

"Kurimu?" he echoed in disbelief. "She hardly even talks!"

"Sure she does. To me and to Ami." Hejjiguchi scratched his wild cobalt-blue hair while he spoke. "She's really spirited, y'know. Cool sense of humor. Polite and sweet, but she'll stand up to anyone."

Ayato scrunched his eyebrows together. "Are you trying to set me up with her?"

"Ami wants me to," Hejjiguchi admitted, frowning. "But I don't think…" He straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, Naoi. She's not your type, and you should leave her alone. I know you might be like your dad, preferring girls who are meek and submissive, and sure, Kurimu's a good cook, but—"

Everything else after that dissolved into ringing static.

 _I know you might be like your dad…_

… _preferring girls who are meek and submissive…_

He clenched his jaw and his fists so tightly his entire arms were shaking at his sides. Another baseball boy he would love to turn into a living baseball bat, or even the ball itself. If only.

This… this imbecile believed he had the same taste in women as _Kimito!_ He said he was _like_ him!

So he was right about what his classmates thought of him. Though that didn't explain why Ami wanted him to ask Kurimu out on a date…

"—even though Ami says that girls like mysterious, brooding smart guys—"

So that was why. If that was the case, why didn't she just go talk to Masuda instead? And stop bothering him. He wasn't some dangerous delinquent girls loved and guys like Hejjiguchi hated. Unless they were seeing something he couldn't.

Unless when they saw him, they saw a young Kimito Naoi.

"—just that I really feel protective of her, y'know, and I wouldn't want her to get hurt—"

 _Punch him,_ said a voice. His fist twitched in response. The voice sounded gruff, grating, and familiar. _He's calling you violent. He thinks you're like your dad. Punch him._

Something flashed in his mind—a vision, maybe even a hallucination, or a dream he didn't remember.

 _He struck his first blow, straight to the boy's jaw. The second strike packed so much force that it knocked his classmate to the ground as he cried out in pain._

" _You little—!" he heard himself growl, before sending a bruising kick to his ribs._

For a flicker of an instance, the vision had made him feel a compelling surge of dominance. He never knew a dream could make him feel like that. He never knew he could feel that powerful.

 _You aren't like him, you know._

He knew exactly whose voice that was.

 _I'm not like him._ He unfurled his fists, trying to calm down and clear his mind. _I'm not. But I will be if I hit him._

Hejjiguchi was wrong. Kurimu _was_ meek and polite. She raised her hand in class and hushed Ami when she whispered too loud to her while the teacher was talking. She liked rules and animals and offering her friends sweet treats. Hejjiguchi was right about one thing—she wasn't Ayato's type.

But this lowlife needed to be punished somehow. Perhaps with nerves and mind games.

"I don't have time for this," Ayato said with a grunt, glancing at his wristwatch. He pushed past Hejjiguchi, leaving him agape and slightly flustered in the middle of the hall.

"Alright. Maybe Yuri has time for me?"

Ayato hesitated, then, and squinted over his shoulder to ask Hejjiguchi what that was even supposed to mean, but the boy had already dashed past him down the hall and rounded the corner.

Hmph. He really did make things quick.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _You think you're funny leaving on a note like that?"_

" _If I figure something out, will you…?"_

" _He's as against the relationship as I am."_

" _They don't know you at all."_

" _Haven't you learned your lesson?!"_

" _Soon you'll be stuck with me for a whole summer."_

" _He_ needs _to get some rest."_

[Chapter 09]: **Troubles of Troublemakers.**


	9. Troubles of Troublemakers

**A/N: I figure that short HC chapter updates should come with supplementary TPS updates. So here we go!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 09]: Troubles of Troublemakers_

* * *

"You wench," Ayato spat when Yuri finally approached him at the stone border after school. "You think you're funny, leaving on a note like that?"

"According to Hejjiguchi, I am." Yuri's smug grin faded as she closed in on him, and she wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Speaking of which, any idea why he tracked me down and started interrogating me?"

He let out an exasperated huff. "Well, after you claimed I was in love with Kurimu and walked off," he said as they walked across campus to the school gates, "he wouldn't stop talking about my type of girl, wanting to know my intentions and interrogating me. When I decided to stop giving him the time of day, I guess he figured you were the next best option to get more dirt on this false love he and Ami are so obsessed with."

Yuri squinted ahead at the road, pursing her lips together thoughtfully.

"See, I don't think that's what it was," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "He was... asking me what kind of stuff I liked…?"

"What—" Ayato paused, furrowing his eyebrows. Wait a minute.

' _Nakamura's a funny girl.'_

' _I like funny girls.'_

' _Maybe Yuri has time for me?'_

Oh, that little…! Of all the cheap shots…!

Then again, he'd left on a line of ambiguity just to let Hejjiguchi fret about the exact same thing. Let him think he wasn't denying anything, and that he'd be the rebellious, brooding charmer and talk to the girl anyway.

It just irritated him to no end that Hejjiguchi had done it to him first. The passive-aggressive bastard sure moved fast.

"I mean, he's in the same neighborhood as me, and he's barely ever talked to me before," Yuri said, shrugging, "so I figured it had something to do with you—"

Ayato stopped in the middle of the crosswalk. "You're in the same neighborhood as him?!"

"Why is that the detail you focused on?" she asked, while impatiently tugging him by the arm to the other side of the street.

"Because you'd never mentioned that before."

Yuri shrugged. "It's not like we've ever hung out. He was irrelevant before now."

She had him at "irrelevant," but lost him at "before now." Ayato shifted the weight of his bag on his shoulder and tried not to be too conspicuous about his fuming. It was just that it'd been him and Yuri since school started in April, and if Hejjiguchi legitimately had an interest in her, well… it might not just be them anymore.

Shit. He hadn't thought about Yuri having a boyfriend before. Didn't boyfriends and girlfriends eat lunch together? Walk each other home? Even if it wasn't Hejjiguchi, the issue still remained. He'd heard enough of Ami's gossip to know a girl liked to do those things with her boyfriend. They barely had enough time together as it was!

"Anyways," Yuri said, reminding Ayato that he'd been quiet this whole time, "I dunno, I thought it was some weird indirect strategy you were using to ask me what I wanted for my birthday or something."

Eager for the not-so-subtle subject change, he perked up. Thank God for her tendency to navigate towards this topic as of late. Maybe she'd finally come up with something. "Not exactly, but… what _do_ you want for your birthday?"

"I want you to come to the beach with me over summer break," she said firmly.

He hadn't quite expected that answer.

Come to the beach… with her? Spend time outside of school with her? That _would_ be an ideal solution for his latest worries. But then he'd run into the reason he only had lunch time and walking to and from school with her in the first place. Summer didn't just mean no school. It meant more Kimito.

"I…" He swallowed, but forced himself to go on even when her determined expression wavered. "I'd like to go, but…"

"Your dad," Yuri finished for him, her voice losing that bold certainty. She looked away, and he followed her eyes to the pottery shop in the distance.

"He usually has me working full-time over breaks," he said, and not enough of his apology could possibly fit into his tone. He loathed that store more than ever. "I don't want to make a promise to you that I'm not sure I can keep."

Yuri frowned, but nodded. "I understand." She punted a rock into the grass. "Hate your dad, though."

Ayato would have snorted his agreement if he didn't feel so miserable about it. Hejjiguchi would probably have time over the summer for her if he had his way. Still, Ayato clung to an odd sense of smugness that Yuri had asked him first.

Figured… the one person who put him first, and he couldn't even make time for her.

They kept walking in silence for a minute, all sorts of self-deprecating thoughts and curses toward Kimito rolling through his exhausted mind. A block or so down the opposite side of the street, a guy his age seemed to be treating a petite brunette to a thing of party favors. The girl had gone starry-eyed, both at the gift and her classmate. Ayato glanced away guiltily.

What kind of friend was he if he might not even celebrate Yuri's birthday with her? Maybe it was a sign that he just wasn't meant to have friends.

"If I figure something out," said Yuri, interrupting his train of thought, "will you—"

"Yes," he answered with all haste. "Of course."

If it were possible, he would certainly do at least this much for her.

They reached the fork in the road and walked onward, the air almost tangibly cleared between them.

"So tell me more about how Hejjiguchi hounded you," Yuri said, laughing. He got a good look at her cheeky smirk out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry I missed it."

Ayato rolled his eyes. Sorry she missed it, of course. Not sorry she ditched him and left him with that idiot. But he supposed he'd humor her.

"You didn't miss anything fun," he replied. "Hejjiguchi just gushed about how sweet and funny Kurimu is for an eternity—"

"Him too?" Yuri scrunched up her nose. "Are he and Ami that serious about getting you two together?"

"On the contrary. He's as against the relationship as I am."

"Okay," Yuri mused, drawing out the word slowly as they rounded a curve in the path. She squinted, but that may have been from the sun. Curiosity or sunlight, her summer eyes gleamed brighter. "So what made him so keen on cornering you just to sing Kurimu's praises? What was the point of all that?"

His mouth quirked at the memory. "To tell me to back off. Apparently to them I'm some mysterious, brooding bad boy—" at the sight of Yuri's immediate poker-face, he went on with an encouraged snort—"and Ami thinks girls like that, but Hejjiguchi—"

It started out as a muffled snicker, a tiny giggle or two sneaking past her fist. Then Yuri was howling with laughter. Her shoulders heaved and apparently something was so gut-busting that she had to hug herself to keep from doubling over.

Ayato waited patiently, sending his eyes heavenward. He should have seen this reaction coming.

"A bad boy!" Yuri sputtered between shrieks. There were actual tears of mirth brimming. "Like some hell-raising delinquent!"

"Yes, yes, get it all out of your system," he said, leaning against a tree and waving his hand dismissively. She took one look at him and laughed even harder; upon reflection, he supposed this _was_ a classic bad boy pose. Sighing, he rubbed his temples. At least she was finding the humor in this

In the midst of composing herself, Yuri threw him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," she managed, wiping her cheek. "It's just… I can't even get you to skip work. And they think you're this heartthrob that breaks all the rules. They don't know you at all."

"They think they do." Confident that her little laughing fit was over, Ayato straightened up and resumed walking. The estate wasn't far now. His father would be waiting, but he didn't want to look at his watch to see how long he'd kept him. Ideally he'd rather not have to think about it at all, but…

"What do you mean by that?" Yuri was beside him again, so close her hand knocked against his.

Ayato stiffened.

"Oh, Hejjiguchi just figures I see Kurimu as the type of girl I'm interested in. Meek, submissive, serving." Knitting his eyebrows, he punted a fist-sized rock out of the path with his boot. "Like father, like _son_." It went sailing into the forest and landed with a noisy crash.

Yuri's expression darkened. "He said that?"

"More or less."

"Moron," she said with finality. Ayato smiled. He couldn't imagine Kurimu or his mother saying a word like that.

"Imbeciles. All three of them," he agreed, feeling his mood lighten up a little. Talking with Yuri could do that to him more often than not. "You're right, Yuri. I'm not like him. It just pisses me off when lowlives like Hejjiguchi think so."

Yuri hummed sympathetically, though the sound turned thoughtful.

"Ami's his friend." She gazed up at the flecks of July sun that peeked through the treetops. "For him to go against her on this… I mean, you'd think he'd just give you the shovel talk and be done with it. But you haven't done anything. So what does he care?"

Ayato shook his head, not really following. "Does it matter? I don't care if he supports the relationship or not. I don't want to be in it."

"Fair enough," said Yuri, and he was glad to see the subject of Hejjiguchi fading from her interest. She flicked her stare towards him, deliberately avoiding the sight of the clearing just ahead. "So what are you going to do about all this?"

That was a good question. As tempted as he still was to pay attention to Kurimu out of spite towards Hejjiguchi, he wasn't sure if it was worth it to fuel Ami's and Kurimu's suspicions. He would rather Ami give up and find something else to entertain her. This was high school, after all. Relationships and attention spans were fleeting. At least, the ones that didn't matter.

He met Yuri's gaze, which was still fixated on him, and he sighed. A fluttery breeze stuck his bangs to the sweat on his forehead. Annoyed, he moved a hand through his hair, guiding it out of his face.

"Wait for this to blow over, I guess," Ayato said. "Ride it out until summer break." Then he flashed her the smarmiest grin he could conjure. "And then if we do see them outside of school, they'll take the hint when they see me ogling you in a bikini."

The resulting shade of tomato red on her face was worth every second he'd had to listen to Hejjiguchi jabber. Her breath catching on an indignant squeak, she made a move as if to thwack his shoulder. Then her expression softened. She paused her hand in mid-air and brought it back down.

"Oh, ogle all you want. I understand," she responded with a growing smirk, bumping his arm with her elbow. "Just as long as it's at the beach on July 27th."

Although he felt guilty for getting her hopes up, he couldn't help but play along. "Yes ma'am," he said, tipping an imaginary hat in a mock salute. Then he blinked twice. The move felt oddly familiar or natural, like an instinct. He was puzzled for a second before he remembered doing it in his dream.

Yuri was looking at him oddly too, but it couldn't be for the same reason. Another blink and her expression vanished, so maybe he had imagined it.

They kept walking. As the clearing drew closer, a sudden thought sickened his stomach.

 _After all that had happened yesterday, what if…_

He checked his wristwatch. Dread slammed into his throat, shutting it tight. Despite the summer heat, he felt cold and very faint, and the very few hours of sleep were catching up to him as well.

He stopped, and turned to Yuri, forcing his mouth to obey him. Easier thought than done. He was sure he looked wild-eyed.

"I—"

"I know," she said, lowering her voice and giving his arm a quick squeeze. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah." It came out as a croak, like a damn frog. "See you."

This time, she didn't linger. Either she was getting better at that, or she understood the panic on his face. She turned sharply on her heel and trotted towards the other path into town, making little to no noise in the process. Her stealth was admirable; he always figured she must have had practice sneaking in and out of her house to go to parties or something.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. She didn't linger and neither should he.

Swallowing hard, he broke into a brisk sprint until the trees stopped and the field began. Once he reached the workshop, he stumbled to a halt and mopped the sweat from his brow. He didn't hear anything going on inside. No chiseling, no scraping of ceramics against wood, no whirring of the potter's wheel. He let his heart and lungs rest for a second. Maybe Kimito wasn't in—

The door burst open with a bang, as if blown from its hinges by an explosive.

"Haven't you learned your lesson?!" Kimito demanded, appearing in the doorway with a sour expression on his face. He propped the door open by leaning against it and stood there with his arms crossed. "Don't keep me waiting, Ayato!"

As much as he gritted his teeth, he didn't have the strength or the energy to hold back a retort. "School holds me up sometimes!" he snapped, and instantly regretted it.

Kimito's eyes narrowed warningly. The muscles in his face tightened.

"I'd say school holds you _back_ sometimes." He reached out and grabbed Ayato by the arm, yanking him forward. "Don't give me attitude again. Get in here." As Ayato ducked into the workshop, Kimito cuffed him over the head and pulled the door shut behind them.

During pottery sessions such as these, Kimito sat next to him at his own wheel. As a kid it used to inspire him; after learning to associate it with criticism, it would depress him; and now that his skill had improved, it just annoyed him. He might not be a master of pottery yet, but he couldn't stand having his father practically breathing down his shoulder.

Sometimes, like in this instance, he wondered if in some twisted way Kimito thought of this as father-son bonding. He doubted it, though. Looking up from his potter's wheel, he snuck a sideways peek at Kimito. The man was, as expected, furiously fixated on the teapot he was forming. He wouldn't even recall that Ayato was here until the critical side of his brain kicked in to remind him to pick apart each and every flaw in his apprentice's handiwork.

This wasn't bonding. This was just business.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Kimito's voice came at last. "Come summer break, you won't have any more excuses."

Ayato chose not to look up at this point. Perfecting his vase was more important, lest his distracted state send clay splattering everywhere. Besides that, he hated the reminder. Neither he nor Kimito expected him to go to a top-tier university after high school since he was already part of the family business, so there was no need to take supplementary classes during vacation. It was like he told Yuri – his summer was already decided for him.

"You're right," he agreed. "No more school for me to disappear to for a few weeks. Soon you'll be stuck with me for a whole summer."

Kimito said nothing. Ayato wondered if the silence was him angrily trying to figure out if he'd just been sassed, or if he was having trouble thinking up a response. It wasn't like the man could laugh it off or warmly reassure him that was exactly what he wanted.

Finally, his father harrumphed.

"You need the training anyway," he said brusquely.

Scowling, Ayato clenched his jaw and returned his attention to dampening the clay's surfaces.

 _Goddammit._ Kimito: 1, Ayato: 0.

* * *

Mother was able to coax them inside for dinner, but she was kidding herself if she thought it would give him energy. Ayato couldn't feel his hands and he was pretty sure his brain had misted out of his body and was in a whole other dimension. Some of that was exhaustion, the rest was getting slapped over the head about three times over the course of three hours because his father had mistaken exhaustion for laziness. That man's backhand could cause quite the concussion; Ayato had shaken his head to stay awake at the dinner table and he swore he could hear rattling.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Mother asked, too fretful to glance at her own dinner. "From the looks of it, I don't know how you made it through the day!"

"It's his own fault," said Kimito, before Ayato could even attempt to process and answer the question. "He needs to work on his time management skills."

"He _needs_ to get some rest." Ayato was conscious enough to give her a look of alarm; Kimito's was more of a testy glower. "He's a growing boy, and he needs brainpower for school and for his training in pottery. Unless you can argue that one of those _doesn't_ require brainpower…?"

It was impossible that those words just came out of his mother's mouth. If it weren't for the wide-eyed, livid expression white hot and incandescent on his father's face, Ayato might've been convinced it never happened. Just a tired hallucination. But Kimito had gone very pale, his nostrils flaring and blowing steam like a taunted bull. And his mother looked very surprised with herself, and very scared.

Dinner fell uncomfortably quiet. Silence during a family meal wasn't uncommon, but this was one of those dinners where the silence lingering in the air prickled with the electricity of Kimito's foul mood.

Ayato was glad he had eaten fast to distract himself, because after a few minutes or eternities, Kimito spoke in a cold voice. "Ayato, go upstairs and _rest_."

Nodding, Ayato mumbled a "yes sir" and "thanks for the food" to his mother. He stumbled, disoriented, to his room and collapsed on the bed.

Sleep did not come quickly. He didn't expect it to, nor was he sure that he wanted it to with the state of his mind. He was only half-joking about a possible concussion, and would rather not die during Yuri's birth month. Instead, he stared at the indents on the ceiling and focused on the shapes he recognized instead of listening to the ruckus downstairs.

His mother rarely screamed. The shouting usually came from Kimito. His mother more often wept, which was even worse. When he was younger, the contrast of their voices used to terrify him. Kimito's voice, scratchy but deep and booming; Mother's, soft and shaky, timid and tearful. Those voices appeared in his dreams sometimes. No plot, no visuals, just sounds, voices that warred with each other and clawed painfully at his heart. If it _was_ a war, the booming voice won while the soft voice cowered and sobbed.

Such was the case downstairs.

Ayato squeezed his eyes shut and pulled a sheet over his head, then a pillow. It was a childish move, a reach for comfort, but it did block out some of it. Not all, just some. He could still hear muffled yelling, furious stomping, furniture scraping the tiles as it was roughly pushed around the floor. The distinct sound of a ceramic dish shattering reached his ears. He would be the one to replace that.

Ayato breathed in and out steadily under the covers. They never argued quite like this when they had two sons. But when they did, he had been younger, and it had frightened him more.

" _Ayato?" Hayato whispered. "Are you alright?"_

 _Their beds were across the room from each other, but sometimes one of the brothers would get chatty (Hayato) and turn on his side to stage-whisper whatever came to mind. Things that made Ayato giggle and occasionally got the lights turned on and stern warnings growled through the door. Ayato was less inclined to speak, but in this case he doubted either of his parents would hear him._

" _He's so loud," he said, clutching his pillow. "I'm scared. I can't sleep."_

 _Hayato nodded knowingly._

" _It scares me too, and when he raises his voice during lessons," he said. They both shared a little frown. "Just… breathe like this, okay? Breathe like me."_

 _Ayato followed his strategy closely. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Deep breath in, slow breath out. It didn't work perfectly, but at least he was thinking about something else. He could listen to his brother breathe too. It was so exaggerated. He knew it was for his sake, but it made him laugh. Hayato giggled too._

 _They giggled from their respective sides of the room and tried to sound like deflating balloons, which made their giggles worse. They clapped their hands over their mouths when their laughter was more noticeable than the yelling downstairs._

 _The hallway lights didn't turn on. They'd laughed like brothers. They fell asleep breathing deeply. Despite the fighting downstairs, it was one of their better nights._

 _One of Ayato's better childhood memories._

Deep breath in, slow breath out. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Snarls and raised voices and watery tones downstairs. He couldn't do anything about it but breathe.

He did find sleep in the midst of this chaos. His brother had taught him that peace of mind.

He doubted thoughts of Hayato had the same effect on his mother.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Those look like they hurt."_

" _Need any extra help?"_

" _Traitor."_

" _It could be like a double-date!"_

" _Ami seems the stalker type."_

" _I'm not trying to get rid of you, jerk."_

" _Soon, then."_

[Chapter 10]: **Summer Ahead.**


	10. Summer Ahead

**A/N: TPS's going to be updating a little more frequently these days! Until Chapter 13, that is.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 10]: Summer Ahead_

* * *

Never before did Ayato think he would be grateful for summer exams approaching. In past years, it meant tests _and_ his summer job looming on the horizon. This time around, it meant that Ami, Kurimu, and Hejjiguchi would be extremely irresponsible to think about romance instead of their studies. Yuri had lost count of how many times Ayato had breathed a sigh of relief to see the three of them eating lunch in their homeroom and having a study session together.

However, there _were_ those who still brought infatuation into the exam period. He'd had to swallow his snickering in History class lately as at least five girls – and two boys – had come up to Masuda to bat their lashes and ask for tutoring. It appeared their term-long snoozing had come back to bite them in the ass. And Masuda clearly didn't know what to do with all this attention. He _acted_ cool, but he was more of a chameleon in class who didn't like being discovered. The joke was still on the students though, because from what Ayato heard, Masuda was a strict mentor.

When refused, some of them turned their eyes on Ayato – for maybe two seconds, before sweating the thought and looking away. He elected not to blame them in this case – who would want a Naoi as a tutor? Besides, being invisible or avoided was preferable during exam season. It wasn't like he could help them after hours, or that he even wanted to. He would rather die than heap on _that_ responsibility.

Even between him and Yuri, the mood shifted to studying. It was the oddest thing – he had never seen her wearing glasses before. But she had a pair of them – deep red – for reading, and she adjusted them a lot. Like a nervous tick. Sometimes she restlessly fanned through the textbook pages. In the heat of the day, he didn't mind that one at all.

He didn't mind any of them, really. Particularly when he took into account that these were some of his last days at school with Yuri, and then he'd be left with forty-something days of uncertainty and _Kimito._ God help him.

Instead, he found her study quirks endearing, though he tried to disguise his observations by stealthy looks and hiding behind his pages. She drank her coffee slower; though he imagined she'd need it more, she would most blasphemously forget about it. Grades were a higher tier for her. Less coffee meant less lip-licking and more frustrated lip-biting. He worried for her mouth by the end of the term. The lip-biting was usually followed by a growl, a raspier version of her thoughtful hum.

At times, when it got to hair-pulling, he would decide to step in. He was sure she spent more time going over this stuff at home than he did, but he still wanted to help if he could. She would bounce irritations and ideas off of him.

His favorite thing was when she was in the middle of explaining the problem aloud to him, and her eyes would suddenly light up in realization. Just hearing it out loud cleared things up for her. He didn't have to do a damn thing and he'd be a help to her. It was very self-satisfying for both parties involved.

In turn, she was an excellent partner herself. Her persuasion skills leaked into her mentoring: she had a way of being matter-of-fact and having everything make sense, having all the pieces fit together. Though it was no news to him that she was clever, something told him that with her charms she could direct an entire army if she wanted.

He had more study time at home, but of course that didn't mean Kimito was entirely happy about it. Ayato stretched once in the club room and his sleeves fell long enough for Yuri to notice. Commence more lip-biting.

"Those look like they hurt," she said.

Ayato rotated his arm, as if modeling it. Really he was inspecting the bruises himself. They were as normal to him as arm hair.

"He probably thinks human flesh is like clay," he said, after a minute or two. "If you apply the right amount of pressure, you can make it do whatever you want."

She quirked her mouth, unamused. Lowered her eyes. Returned to studying.

Ayato was, in his personal opinion, especially good at dissuading Yuri from bringing it up.

Another plus – even when they did run into Ami or Hejjiguchi outside of class, Yuri used that charisma of hers to wheedle them out of a lingering confrontation. It was her way of apologizing for the little trick she played on that fateful Friday.

"Sorry, we'd love to talk but we have studying to do," she'd say. Or, even, "Oops, now that you mention it, I left my book in the classroom. Ayato, would you please come help me find it?"

Hejjiguchi was surprisingly more persistent than Ami. "Need any extra help?"

"Sorry!" Yuri chirped. "Three's a crowd!"

This made Hejjiguchi hesitate at first, but then he recovered with a grin. "True. But what about a golden trio?"

"I think you've already got one of those," she said, then clutched the fabric of Ayato's uniform. "Sorry, but we really have to duck out now."

Hejjiguchi just chuckled merrily. "Alright. I'll catch you later, Yuri!"

"I bet you will!" Yuri threw over her shoulder with a laugh, and she and Ayato escaped around a corner.

Once they were halfway down the hallway, out of earshot, Ayato squinted at her. "He called you Yuri. You're on a first name basis with him?"

Yuri shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I told you we live close to each other."

"But he used to call you Nakamura."

"So he's been talking to me more these days," she replied. "Don't worry, I don't tell him anything he wants to know about you. Mostly he just wants to talk with me."

"I'll bet." Ayato folded his arms across his chest.

They kept walking, past Yuri's classroom. She had all the books she really needed. The stone border was their destination this time; even if today was breezy, they had agreed they weren't feeling the club room today.

"When he's not irritating you, he's not doing anything wrong. And he can actually be pretty funny."

"Traitor," he spat – good-naturedly of course.

Yuri scoffed at him, holding her lunch close to her chest. "No. Not a traitor. Just open-minded. I'm on your side, alright? What, you think I'm going to start having lunch with him?"

He gave a small shrug before he opened the door for her. She leaned against it to prop it open for him in return, and he watched over his shoulder as he headed out into the July heat.

"I don't know, Nakamura. Isn't that what you do when you and Hejjiguchi grow to be best pals?"

The door swung shut behind her. "I want you to be clear with me right now," she said tersely. "Are you actually mad about this? About me being friends with someone else? Or, rather, me even talking to someone else?"

She was staring at him with a sharp, digging look, one that forced him to do some digging himself. Her look and her phrasing gave something inside him a nervous twinge.

His mother didn't have other friends. When she talked to another man (or hell, even a woman) for too long, on the phone or in public, his dad got the same look on his face as he did when she made the "brainpower" comment.

Kimito thought he was all she would need for company, but in truth, she was very isolated.

"No," Ayato admitted. "I'm not mad about that."

They started walking towards the stone border, in sync with each other. "What then?"

"I'm not mad at you at all. The guy just irritates me." He kicked some gravel out of the way, into the grass. "The comment about my dad, the corny winks and thumbs up…" He frowned. "Even his blue hair."

"His _hair_ annoys you?" Yuri was biting back a grin.

He scratched his own head. "There's just something about it, I don't know what."

"I think you're in love."

He spun his head around so fast he might have needed an exorcist, only for his wide eyes to meet teasing ones, and he realized she meant Hejjiguchi.

"Oh, please," said Ayato, snorting. "First Kurimu, now Hejjiguchi? What am I doing, building some kind of harem?"

Yuri nodded cheerily. "Yep, and Ami's next!"

Ayato made it to the stone border and sat down first. "I'm glad _you_ don't have jealousy issues." He grinned at her and patted her usual place on the rock bench next to him.

Smirking, she took the invitation, sat down, and opened the lunch in her lap. "Only when it comes to Kimito."

Only a handful of times did Yuri have to get them out of a conversation with Hejjiguchi. Ami might have been just as hard to shake off, but they didn't run into her as much. And Kurimu? That girl was not a problem. Not yet, at least. It was extremely rare that she crossed their path alone, and when she did, she passed him without incident. The most she gave him was a bright, cheerful hello once or twice.

That girl. So polite, so petite, so pure. He knew there were plenty of boys who liked her kind of doe-eyed, ribbon-haired look. Personally, it unnerved him. Kimito could squash that kind of girl with his pinkie finger. Ayato preferred not to mess with little angels; they were the girls of tragic love stories.

Or the girls who ended up like his mother.

Or both.

As it was, Kurimu and crew often kept their noses in their books until exams rolled around (as enforced by the little princess herself). During exam week, if Hejjiguchi or Ami tried to get his attention, the teacher would stifle it then and there with a, "Pipe down, you." Ayato had never loved teachers more.

One plus of him not being invisible in class anymore, one he would admit to, was that he could no longer tune anything out. He was focusing more on the board than the clock or the window. He'd learned that if he was daydreaming in class, then _obviously_ he must be lost in love. If his eyes were on the teacher, any distractions from the troublesome trio would be them getting in the way of his classwork. Sweet, bookish, school-abiding Kurimu couldn't have that!

Oh, bless her dear little heart. He had to admit, she was the lesser of two or three evils.

Thanks to her, albeit indirectly, he knew what he was doing on the exams. Some credit would have to go to Yuri for their study sessions, but he was just glad at least some good had come out of this stupid conspiracy.

It was not much of a relief when the testing period came to an end. Kimito knew about it and was less lenient when it came to study time, he had two more weeks guaranteed with Yuri, and classes became more lighthearted. Now, instead of the blissful silence of study time, he had to hear people prattle on about their vacation plans. He tried to put his own shields up with a book, but it didn't save him every day.

"Hi, Naoi!" The rosy-haired demon of the troublesome trio stood at his desk, beaming. He had no choice but to lower his shields. "Do _you_ have any plans for the break?"

He did his best to give her a blank, unwelcoming look. It was none of her business and he wouldn't put stalking past this girl.

Ami was undeterred by his silence. Or she hadn't expected an answer.

"Because Kurimu and I were thinking of going to the beach as much as we can, to build up our tans and stuff." She brightened even more, starry-eyed and clasping her hands together. "If you and Hejjiguchi came along, it could be like a double-date!"

Hejjiguchi and Ayato cringed simultaneously, and Ayato almost wanted to laugh. He forgot that they actually agreed on something.

"Ami, you're gonna have to count me out on that one." Hejjiguchi gave a great shudder, like a dog shaking off the remnants of a fall in the pool. "I've told you I'm not going anywhere near water."

Ayato perked up. Well, if _Hejjiguchi_ wasn't going…

"And I told _you_ that it's just water!" Ami said, putting her hands on her hips. She seemed very passionate on the beach idea; one dissent from her friend had already caused her eye to twitch. "Besides, you wouldn't have to be in the ocean the whole time."

All that got was a whiny little scoffing grunt and a look the other way.

Kurimu stepped up, glowing with hopefulness. "What Ami's trying to say is that you don't have to go into the water at all if you don't want to. There's lots of fun stuff to do at the beach even if you don't know how to swim!"

While Hejjiguchi winced, Ayato suppressed a snort. Mr. Positivity couldn't swim? And here he would have pegged him as the lifeguard type.

"Please?" Kurimu coaxed. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

Hejjiguchi was caught between a frown and a softened expression. Ami's and Kurimu's eyes were completely on him, much to Ayato's amazement. It occurred to him in a surge of pleasant surprise that he wasn't part of this conversation anymore. He reached for his book.

"I'll think about it," said Hejjiguchi, laughing nervously, "but that is way unfair. You know I can't say no to that face."

"Great!" Ami clapped her hands, startling Ayato. "What about you, Naoi? Can you say no to Kurimu?"

Damn, he'd been so close. And this was a double-edged sword, wasn't it? Of course he could say no to their group's little princess. But then that would help solidify his role as the "bad boy."

"Sorry," he said, deciding it couldn't be helped, "but I do have plans."

"With Yuri?" That was Hejjiguchi's voice.

Ayato glanced at them over his shoulder and shook his head. "With work."

Disappointment crept over Ami's face. Notably not over Kurimu's; unsurprisingly not over Hejjiguchi's. "What, all summer?"

A nod. "That's right."

"Well, pooh!" Ami kicked the air. She smiled at him sweetly; Ayato was beginning to suspect Yuri's theory about Ami liking him might have some validity to it. "We'll have to visit you sometime, I guess. Aren't you going to miss us?"

A bell rang, signaling that it was time to go. Ayato stood up, gathered his books, and turned to them briefly.

"Not at all!" he said, smiling back at her. With that, he gave them all a mocking invisible hat tip and strode out of the room. He may have heard Hejjiguchi laughing in the background, but he didn't care. Soon, he would have a respite from their absurdity.

He could very much do without them for a spell. Or ideally a lifetime.

* * *

Yuri was acting strangely happy as she walked him home on their last day. He supposed he would be happy too if his birthday loomed on the horizon (in an alternate universe where his birthday was a big deal).

Except for one thing… this was their last school-related excuse to have time together. For 40-plus days.

The voice in his head that sounded like Kimito said: _She's thrilled to finally get rid of you._

He said to it: _Bullshit._

Her birthday was coming. Her parents were going to be home to celebrate it. There was no way he was going to feel _disappointment_ that she wasn't as bummed as he was. Or at least, he wasn't going to guilt her on it.

She did say she wanted to "figure something out" that would let him celebrate with her. He hoped she wasn't expecting something too fairytale-esque. Her fairy godmother complex could be rather worrying sometimes.

In the meantime, today he'd bought her Key coffee, and he'd helped his mom make a box full of the foods she most often sampled from his lunch. It didn't feel like enough, but Yuri had neglected to give him any other gift ideas besides the improbable beach invitation. Her level of confidence was something he doubted he'd ever reach.

Then again, there _was_ something he was working on… if…

"—the last day, and you're not even listening to me."

Ayato blinked at her, mentally shaking himself out of his thoughts. But he had a quip ready for her anyway. "The last day, and you're not even _sad_."

"Yes I am!" She lightly thwacked his arm—he could tell she didn't use her full strength (his bruises thanked her). "Excuse me if I'd rather have _fun_ on our last walk home from school than mope about it."

"I'm not moping," Ayato grumbled.

"Come on." Yuri stopped in her tracks and turned to him, making swishing gestures. "This, right here? It's like you've got a cartoon depression cloud raining over your head."

He quirked his mouth at her. "Need I remind you that my company after this point is going to vastly deteriorate?"

"Hey, I'll miss you too." She resumed walking ahead of him with a confident stride. "If all else fails."

"You'll have your parents," he reminded her.

She cast him a meaningful glance over her shoulder. "I'm not sure if you realize this, Ayato, but you're not the type of person who can easily be replaced."

Emotion rammed into his chest, and he swallowed back a few scrambled and unfinishable thoughts. God, he was going to miss her. 40 days was way too long. And with each day being 24 hours of Kimito, only interrupted by sleep? He was exhausted just thinking about it.

Something wet dripped down his cheek; he slapped a hand to it and wiped it away. The next one hit the top of his head, followed by another one or two or three. A pitter-pattering sound reached the trees.

Yuri took him by the arm, her grip snug but not overbearing. "Figures," she said. "Let's keep going."

They trekked through the drizzle, talking on and off about nothing and everything. She laughed hysterically at the goodbye message he'd given to Ami ("That's just going to make you more irresistible to them—you know that, right?") and they discussed the "threat" of them visiting him at work.

"It's a bluff, mark my words," she insisted.

Ayato didn't buy it at all. "I don't know. Ami seems the stalker type."

More laughter from Yuri. "I still say this is less about Kurimu's love life and more about Ami's."

"Nobody's arguing with you there."

"I mean, who would you rather have confess their feelings to you? That's the real question," Yuri continued, a curious sparkle in her eye. "Kurimu or Ami."

Making a face, Ayato switched his gaze to her. "Is there a third option?"

Yuri stared back at him, pressing her lips together in thought. Her nose scrunched up. "…Hejjiguchi?"

"You wench! You aren't funny!"

That didn't stop her from laughing at her own damn joke. "I'm just trying to make you miss me less!" she called over her shoulder as she pranced ahead of him.

"It's working!" he shot back.

It was actually doing the opposite.

He picked up the pace, trying to keep up with her but resenting the fact that she was closing the distance between them and the estate. The rain was refreshing on his skin, and he couldn't imagine why she would be in a hurry to get out of it. She liked a little dampness just as much as he did.

"You know what's making me miss you less?" Ayato announced as he rounded a curve and the back of Yuri's head reappeared. "The way you're trying to get rid of me so fast."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you, jerk." She spun around, looking happy. "Stop saying things like that. I'm just in a good mood because I've got an idea."

He blinked, for more reasons other than getting a raindrop on his lashes. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Well, I won't tell you _yet._ It's more fun for me if it's a surprise."

A surprise? As far as he knew, those were supposed to be for the one _having_ the birthday. She had little excuse for being so mysterious. But these were the kinds of oddities he wanted to surround himself with for ( _please_ ) just a little longer.

When they reached the clearing by the estate, he knew his time had run out. The sight of the workshop just a short jog away unsettled his stomach, even though he'd seen it ten million times. He'd just never known anything better before now.

"Well," he said, stopping and turning to her. Wet strands of wine-red hair clung to her cheeks and chin in an annoyingly endearing way. He resisted the urge to reach out and brush them away, shoved it down hard. "See you."

"See you," she echoed, nodding. "Soon."

Ayato wasn't sure about that. He opened his mouth to wish her a happy birthday in advance, just in case, but she shook her head.

"Don't bet against me just yet, okay?"

Their eyes locked and she held him there as if in a trance, making it increasingly difficult to doubt her.

"Okay," he agreed, after a beat. "Soon, then."

They both moved as if to head in their separate directions, but then Ayato changed his mind. Pivoting, he grasped her arm and tugged her back to face him. Surprise took ahold of her face. Her lips parted into an "o" as she let out a soft squeak as he pulled her into his arms.

She responded more quickly than he did during their last embrace – she was used to it, he guessed – and locked her arms around his back, pressing herself closer against him. She held him tight like a promise, one he knew she desperately wanted to keep. He'd try to take her word for it.

He spent a few more priceless seconds this way before sending her off. Minutes from now, her parents would welcome her home with the same warmth he'd be lacking for the next few weeks. She had left him wondering, even hoping, but Yuri vs. Kimito was a battle he could safely predict the end to. Even though they lived in the same town, there was no way to know for sure when he'd see her, much less by the 27th.

Ayato trudged up the walkway to his house without looking back or even lingering (the rain was getting to be too cold for him).

In the meantime, the memory of that hug would get him through at least five days of work.

* * *

 **Preview:**

 _"What in the world is wrong with you people?!"_

 _"Don't make me get the bucket."_

 _"You don't want to keep your father waiting."_

 _"I didn't even hear you come in."_

 _"We all have our off days."_

[Chapter 11]: **Beginnings of Break.**


	11. Beginnings of Break

**A/N: And so marks the beginning of a few Yuri-less chapters. After all, this fic is Naoi-centric! And called** _ **The Potter's Son**_ **for a reason. Never fear, Yuri will be back… but when? We'll see… but I do know for sure that HC will be back on the 11** **th** **. In the meantime, allow me to bum you out with evil Kimito and a little bit of teenage angst. Also - check out Yui Hideki's "The Potter's Son" trailer on YouTube!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 11]: Beginnings of Break_

* * *

 _It was weird to be back at school, didn't make much sense, but maybe summer break had gone by faster than he thought. Or the students had been called back in. Or maybe he'd dreamed getting out early. Now it seemed distant, an unimportant detail._

 _He didn't give it much thought; he had a meeting to get to anyway. With the rest of the student council. They were going to be covering a lot of material that would probably last them until after nightfall, which he wasn't looking forward to. But it had to be done, so he shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking down an endless hallway._

 _For a fleeting moment, he pondered if the school had done something different with the walls. Then the thought trickled off, because it couldn't be structured or painted differently. It looked perfectly right to him, like he'd known it for decades_

 _It was still a weird feeling, though, like he'd transferred to an old school._ You don't have an old school _, said one thought._ This IS your old school _, insisted another._

 _Ayato kept walking. He knew the way. There was nothing peculiar about this school to him._

 _Except – maybe – the sudden rumbling underneath his feet. An earthquake?!_

 _No, an IDIOT. Or a_ group _of idiots barreling down the hallways on all fours, emitting terrible, aggressive war cries as they charged forward. They had rags and towels that they were dragging with them, and the leader – the supreme idiot of the group – almost literally swept Ayato off his feet. He was bellowing and blue-haired and sounded like a jetliner as he stormed past him._

 _Ayato followed that one with his eyes even after he decided it wasn't Hejjiguchi. He was angry and flushed and his heart was pounding. What a dumbass!_

" _What in the world is wrong with you people?!" he hollered, after securing his cap on his head. He recognized the uniforms now. Couldn't put a name on it, but those guys belonged to a group that was ALWAYS pulling stunts like this. This caliber of stupidity shouldn't have surprised him._

 _Farther behind him, there came a weary sigh that caught his attention. Another guy, the newest member of their group, was still pushing along at a more reasonable pace._

" _They've always been like this," said the tired student, as if he wasn't the newbie and Ayato wasn't the vice president here. His head was bowed low, focusing on cleaning, and his orange hair was falling in front of his face. "Please don't let it get to you."_

 _Ayato still watched, puzzled, until this guy rounded the corner. Then he shook his head and kept walking. Just another confirmation that he was going to school with a bunch of clowns. It would be nice to, one day, keep them all in line. But apparently that wasn't going to happen under the current student body president's leadership._

" _I WIN!" screamed a voice in the background._

" _Not yet! There's still a second floor!"_

 _Ayato rolled his eyes. So stupid! All of them! …Except, perhaps, that last person. Something about the boy at the end seemed to Ayato as a bit more respectable. He would still mentally dock some points from the impressionable student for hanging out with those fools. Stupid by association._

 _He vanished into the student council room and they started the meeting. Weird things could still be heard going on outside during the discussion. Yelling, additional war cries, loud music on the sports field… He could swear he even heard maniacal, villainous laughter just outside their window._

 _And then—another earthquake?!_

 _Another not-earthquake. More like a hundred bodies colliding with the ground. Out there in the sports field. The idiots were out there practically killing themselves. That was one of the things they ought to cover in this meeting: enforcing curfews. Turning away from the window, he opened his mouth to make a derisive comment to the president. But she was no longer sitting next to him, she was up out of her chair and sliding the door open._

 _He couldn't believe his eyes. The council members exchanged the same befuddled glances with him, but they were just_ sitting _there and letting it happen. Annoyed, he sprang up from his seat and hurried to the doorway. She was still drifting down the hall, all carefree, like she was off to get some tea or warm milk._

" _Student body president!" he hollered after her in disbelief. "You can't do this! We're not done yet!"_

" _I'll be back soon," she said dreamily. And she floated away like a ghost, like an_ angel – _not a good one – away from her responsibilities. It was infuriating._

 _Why was she the student body president if she was going to be like this? Honestly—_

 _He stiffened. He felt a presence nearby, out in the hall. Eyes on him. It was a familiar feeling, but still suspicious. Sighing, he backed into the student council room and pulled the door shut._

 _When he turned around, his world began to shake again._

* * *

"What makes you think you can sleep in?"

Ayato groaned sleepily, then in dismay as he acknowledged the pain in his side. This morning, Kimito's method of waking him up was unceremoniously nudging— _kicking_ —him in the ribs with his foot. He opened his eyes and stared up at his father blearily.

Kimito was hovering over him, looking irritated as ever. He didn't have very many other emotions to display. Irritation, impatience, fury, dissatisfaction… that was his spectrum. And now that it was summer break they would be directed at Ayato on a much more regular basis.

Ugh… summer break…

Groggy desperation had Ayato clinging desperately to his dream, to his last threads of sleep, though he knew it was futile and dangerous. Two seconds after he'd closed his eyes and reacquainted himself with his pillow, the illusion of sleep fell to pieces.

"Hey!" Kimito barked, shoving him this time so that he rolled on his side. "Don't make me get the bucket."

Ayato gritted his teeth and choked down a growl. He hated getting woken up with the bucket, even in the summer. There was no bluffing when it came to threatening him with ice water. Blankets and hair usually got the most of it, but sometimes when his shirt got soaked, Kimito wouldn't even let him change out of it. If Ayato was even the slightest bit conscious, he would do anything he could to avoid the bucket.

"Fine. I'm up," said Ayato unhappily. He shifted into a sitting position on his bed and kicked his legs over the side of the bed, then looked up at Kimito. It was the easiest method of telling Kimito, essentially, _get out of my room._

Kimito gruffly nodded his approval. "Breakfast is waiting downstairs. Don't dawdle."

What, like they would be meeting around the table for a family meal this morning? Highly unlikely. But then Kimito shutting the door behind him as he left shook some of Ayato's thoughts out of slumber mode. The food would be getting cold, and if he took too long getting to it, Kimito would drag him away from the table in mid-bite. Then he'd get mad at Ayato's mother for wasting food on him, even if it made it into the fridge as leftovers.

His father was not a morning person. Ayato didn't understand why he expected everyone else to be.

Still in a haze, he fumbled around until he dug up a shirt to change into, then pants, then cap… where was his cap? He usually rested it on his bedpost. Why wasn't it—

He remembered he didn't have a cap and he was wasting valuable time. Stupid dream!

Downstairs, his mother greeted him with a yawn-filled "good morning" and continued scrubbing the kitchen windows while he sat down to breakfast. To let more light in, she always said, to make this house a little cheerier. Ayato never told her not to bother. Not because Kimito darkened every room he walked into (though he did), but because when he was particularly angry, his fury could illuminate the entire house with a light just about as blinding as the sun.

The sun, burning and pulsing and old, was a dangerous thing to look at, but life still revolved around it. It still wasn't something Ayato liked seeing first thing in the morning.

"Better not fall asleep in your food," said his mother. "You don't want to keep your father waiting."

Disoriented, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She had her back turned to him, and she was stretching to reach a spot in the corner of the windowpane. Her exposed arms were freckled with black and blue. He frowned and averted his eyes, swallowing a mouthful of tea.

Breakfast disappeared fast, wisely, and very luckily without hiccups. A common side effect of choosing "eat fast" over "eat little," they were greatly despised by Kimito because they made his son sound like more of an imbecile than usual. Apparently the public would think he was "raising a son who can't even eat and drink properly," so he'd keep him doing chores in the workshop until they were gone.

This morning they wouldn't be a problem or a delay. Ayato headed down to the workshop, fuzzy-minded but fed. The weather helped break him out of his daze as he walked, which was good. He needed to be at least 70% conscious to minimize Kimito's frustration with him.

Incidentally, Kimito didn't have much for him to do in the workshop. He cleaned out the sink and mixed slips and glazes while Kimito fired up the kiln. After he was done sweeping and wiping off surfaces, Kimito sent him off to open up the store and run it until he finished duties in the studio. It was the same as yesterday, and it would probably be the same tomorrow.

Though successful, Kimito's pottery shop was not exactly the summer place to hang, so Ayato had some time to himself after setting up. Time that last night's dream spent prodding at him.

It figured, of course. Only two days into summer vacation and he was already dreaming of being at school again. And dreaming of people who skirted their responsibilities. The school in his dream didn't look quite like Akuma's, but it was strangely comforting to think about. As if he'd been there before. He certainly had in his last few dreams. Come to think of it, his first one might have been in late June. He remembered "waking up" on the ground and then walking around a huge campus like he'd been transported to a different world. For all he knew, it could've been part of the same dream school.

There were recurring themes, too. He was vice president and had a cap that made him feel powerful, but he was second in command to some wispy-voiced girl who always seemed far away. And Yuri was there once, and Hejjiguchi—

God, no. That wasn't Hejjiguchi. His face had faded back into Ayato's subconscious by now, but he couldn't say it was Hejjiguchi. It was someone differently irritating, someone much more distracting. And then – who else was there with him? Some bare-backed bespectacled boy, a large-boned teen (man?) who could probably destroy him in one punch, and a roaring purple-haired guy who looked more murderous than competitive. And Ayato couldn't forget the lone wolf trailing behind at a sensible speed, a weary expression on his face. Even a figment of his imagination found little sense in these dream-world shenanigans.

Poor guy — he was a babysitter, a proud noble amongst lowlives. It made Ayato want to laugh, pat him on the shoulder, and apologize for dragging him into his dream.

Those other boys though, they were idiots. Especially the blue-haired one who'd almost killed him. And the purple-haired one who—

"Excuse me. Naoi?"

Ayato's head shot up – and then so did his heart rate. What the hell!

His eyes must have widened considerably, because the purple-haired teen in front of him made the same startled expression and held up his hands in surrender. It took a few seconds for Ayato to register that this guy's hair wasn't even the same shade (more fuchsia-violet than purple, but he wouldn't tell him that) and he was a bit more friendly-looking than the student in his dream.

"Hey, Masuda," Ayato said, snapping out of it. "I didn't even hear you come in."

Masuda chuckled guiltily. "Sorry about that. I've become kind of light on my feet. Stealth is… habitual for me, I guess."

"I'm the same with daydreaming. Should've heard the bell jingle."

Waving it off, Masuda said, "Not everyone is the 'constant vigilance' type. We all have our off days." His features twisted into that of reflective annoyance. "Or else I would have been able to stop my roommate's stupid ball in time. Speaking of which, I have a table lamp to replace."

Shaking his head, he sighed and went to browse the merchandise. Ayato wondered how old his roommate was. Sounded more like an annoying little brother… but he knew just what Kimito would say about it. "That's his business. Stick to ours."

His father wasn't much for making friends, he supposed. Just rich regulars. The Nakamuras.

He missed Yuri.

Masuda bought his lamp and left, replying to Ayato's obligatory "please come again" with a sarcastic "I imagine I'll have to" and a reassuringly amiable smirk. Not at all like the rag racer in Ayato's dream, he decided. Still physically close enough to be unnerving, but he wouldn't hold it against him. From what he gathered, Masuda wasn't an idiot.

More people came in after that, usually older. Young couples buying dishware for their new homes. Parents whose kids were home for the summer and playing inside the house near the fancy vases. A grandmother buying pretty figurines to give to her family as gifts. The whole town loved all the things Kimito could make. The man had a gift, just like his own father and just like Hayato. But he didn't like to call it that.

"Hard work," he'd say roughly, whenever people tried to say he was talented. "Practice and a lot of training. That's what it takes. Results show a man's character and dedication."

It was what he'd been saying to Ayato for years, except in decidedly gentler terms.

Mid-afternoon, Kimito made his grand entrance, but holed up in the back room for a couple of hours to decorate a batch of dishes. When he was confident that business had died down out there, he hollered at Ayato for just sitting out there not doing anything. Ayato took the hint and went into the back room to help out. Some of the more recent pieces they'd made needed signing, and despite what Kimito liked to think, some of the work _did_ come from his son's hands.

Taking one bowl that had been set aside, Ayato flipped it over and grabbed a stylus, very carefully carving the lettering into the clay: _直井文人_ _. Naoi Ayato._ He felt a quiet swell of pride in his chest. This was something he created, something with his name on it, something that could be useful to the world. It made him feel like he made a difference. Did Kimito know that feeling?

Ayato spared a glance at his father, who was making his own carvings. His tunnel vision was engaged and he was staring intensely at the plate in his grip. He painted the piece with careful strokes; nothing else in this room existed to him.

Kimito might have known that feeling once, a long time ago. Now, Ayato supposed, he was numb to it.

Frowning, the younger Naoi lowered his eyes to his own creation. And then he did a double-take, because he knew the sun he hadn't spent a second in was playing tricks on him.

 _健人_.

He blinked, and it reverted. Still, for a second there, he thought he'd mistakenly signed his brother's name. But that was strange. He hadn't been thinking of him at the time. Imagine what Kimito would have to say about him writing his own name wrong!

It was only a hallucination, but… he was more used to his mother calling him Hayato rather than his ceramics.

It was moments like these that made him wonder what would happen if they started claiming that he really was Hayato, and that "Ayato" was the dead one, for the interest of the business. He could see Kimito doing that. Switching their identities. Convincing himself that he had Hayato and that no important assets were lost.

But Ayato was the one who closed up shop and walked home with him that evening. He was the one who was there training hard in the workshop afterwards, late into the night. He was the one whose crooked pot got dashed against the wall. Kimito would never have to do this to Hayato. Hayato would never have made such a careless error.

He was Ayato, so he went to bed without dinner because Kimito was in one of those foul "Ayato" moods. He played handheld games in bed until he fell asleep.

For him, this was summer break in a nutshell.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _You go to my high school, don't you?"_

" _That's not really up to me."_

" _I think nothing's worth your freedom."_

" _Did she send you to spy on me?"_

" _You need to get out of this place."_

" _It can still be of some use."_

" _There is nothing wrong with hope."_

[Chapter 12]: **Emboldened by the Boldest.**


	12. Emboldened by the Boldest

**A/N:** **It just occurred to me that I should warn you all ahead of time: Chapter 13 is the last _full_ TPS chapter written. But I guess it could count as a mid-season finale? And since I have one less class to worry about (as of tomorrow), plus it's NaNoWriMo, maybe I can make some progress on TPS as well as HC? We'll see how the semester works out.**

 **In the meantime, enjoy chapter 12!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 12]: Emboldened by the Boldest_

* * *

Ayato didn't expect the days to follow to be too different.

People came in and out of his store, browsing and replacing and oohing and ahhing. Few were younger than twenty-five, save for Masuda. He imagined his classmates would rather be at the pool or the beach for hours upon hours. Yuri had been right to call Ami's bluff. Ayato wasn't going to put an unwelcome visit from the trio behind them just yet, but if he were the beach type, this week would be the week that any normal teenager his age would want to go. It would probably be perfect on Yuri's birthday, which was coming up fast.

Right now, it was after three and there was a lull, so he was in the back doing the usual maintenance. He preferred to wedge clay when it was just him there. Whenever he tried to do it in front of Kimito, he wouldn't be doing it fast enough ("Your mother can knead dough better than this!") and he'd get pushed out of the way. Then he'd stand a few feet behind him, rubbing his arm like an idiot, while Kimito pummeled the clay himself. Needless to say, it wasn't very comfortable to watch. When Ayato did it himself, it made him feel like he was getting stronger.

He laughed to himself as he positioned his palms right and pressed down with most of his weight. Maybe this was where he got his supposed "pottery muscles."

The thought, once losing its charm, made him miss Yuri a little bit. He gave the clay a few more aggressive massages and stored it away in a bag and container on top of the counter. Then his attention dropped to the cabinets below. He was hiding something he'd been working on just in case… well… in case there was a reason to hope. In case he didn't have to wait until September, or at least one Nakamura dropped in. But the more he had time to dwell on it, the more he doubted the Nakamuras would drop by the shop to pick something up for Yuri instead of spending every waking minute with her. That was why they were home for most of this month, instead of having work stand between them. They cared about her, so they would be with her.

Still, while he was wiping clay residue off the counters, some part of him was expecting her to walk through the front door any moment…

The bell jingled. Ayato tripped over his own feet and then the stool, kicked it angrily in retaliation, and skidded quickly down the hall into the front room.

"Welcome to the store," he said as cordially as he could, trying to veil his disappointment that the girl standing near the doorway was very clearly not Yuri Nakamura.

There were similarities, though. While her hair was waist-length and more brown than red, she had the same build and height, though maybe a little bit more… leggy. She had a cooler look to her, but she seemed friendly enough.

"I've seen you around," she said decisively, narrowing her blue eyes at him in scrutiny. "You go to my high school, don't you?"

"The only one in Akuma, yes." Oh great, was that sass? He hoped she wouldn't report that. Quickly, he covered it up with what passed for a smile. "How can I help you?"

She rolled her eyes. "My little sister wants to be a gymnast like me, and one little stunt in the house broke Mom's favorite vase. Then she let me take the fall for it. So I need to buy a replacement with my own allowance."

He directed her to some vases that mothers tended to flock to, conveniently close to the front counter so he could wipe it down while she was browsing. As she mulled thoughtfully over two particularly ornate ones, he had a thought that was almost conversational. "Why was your little sister doing gymnastics inside during the summer?"

Laughing, she poked her head up. "I could say the same thing about you! It's summer break. On a day like this, you should be at the beach enjoying it. Not stuck inside, _working_."

"That's not really up to me," Ayato responded, keeping his tone even.

"Who's it up to, then?"

"The man who runs this store." He wondered if he might strike some fear into this girl's heart. "Kimito Naoi. My father."

She did pause, bowing her head slightly like she was deep in thought. Then, another chuckle, this one rather dry.

"Yeah, I get it," she said. "Family first, right? That's how it always is. You don't want to let your family down, even if it's putting a lot on your shoulders." Standing up, she still kept her eyes on the vases, but she shook her head. "Y'know… if he cared about you, he'd let you have friends. He'd let you be free."

 _If he cared about me,_ Ayato chose to shut down a scoff. _Right._

She picked up a medium-sized vase and brought it to the counter. "You know what I think?" she said, her eyes boring into his. He figured she was about to tell him anyway. "I think nothing's worth your freedom. Not even family or love. It's not worth it when it costs you your happiness, or your freedom, or pretty much your whole life."

Well, what a speech! _Why don't you just wait right here while I go home and tell Kimito I quit? It'll be a piece of cake. Just have a medical kit ready, yeah?_

Ayato bit those things back too. He wondered if Kimito's "the customer is always right" mindset counted when he was being fed boatloads of what his father would call sentimental propaganda.

Then a thought hit him. "Oh, no," he said, groaning despite his best efforts. "Are you one of Ami's friends? Did she send you to spy on me?"

She looked surprised.

"I'm Chitose Hisakawa, if you really don't know me." She traced a design on the vase, which he was now getting a better look at. Her fingers were grazing the outline of a fish, an elaborate and monstrous illustration aptly painted by his father. This girl Hisakawa had an odd aesthetic taste.

"Ayato Naoi," he said, while ringing up her purchase. "It's nice to meet you."

"Hey, I hope I don't seem too pushy to you. I think I went off on a bit of a rant there," Hisakawa added as an afterthought. Crossing her arms, she stared off to the side. "It's just, I've been thinking of someone lately, and… I don't know, it's put me in a bad mood." She laughed, then. "I guess we both have our reasons for not going to the beach today."

"I do have my reasons for going too," he said honestly. "My friend's birthday is on the 27th, and, well, Yuri's the last person I want to disappoint." Tied with his father, admittedly, but for different reasons.

Hisakawa hesitated, then met his eyes again with curiosity. "Yuri Nakamura?"

"That's right. Do you know her?"

"Yeah. We used to do gymnastics together until she dropped out." There was a pause, then she shrugged it off like it was nothing. "Well, I've got a distraught mother to appease and a sister to bully. Have a nice day, Naoi."

He straightened up as she headed out the door with her gift. "Thank you, please come again!"

Hisakawa paused at the entrance. "You need to get out of this place. You sound like a video game character." More tinkling laughter, but it died off after a second. "Her favorite color is purple, if that means anything to you."

She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Tell Yuri I said…" She looked conflicted for a second, her features contorting like she was having a hard time swallowing down a pill. Then, after a weary sigh: "Oh, hell, don't tell her I said anything. I was never here."

She whipped around and shut the door behind her with such energy that the bell jingled twice.

Ayato frowned. He wasn't sure when he started getting this popular and social. At least it hadn't been one of the troublesome trio – but Hisakawa was even stranger than them in a more mysterious sort of way.

He decided not to say anything about Hisakawa for the time being. He also decided not to say to her that while purple was still a long-lasting favorite, Yuri liked green now. He didn't say a word. Instead, he marched down the hall to the back room and got out his hidden treasure and some green paint.

As unrealistic as dreamers could be, sometimes they were inspiring.

Come mid-afternoon, it had to be stored away. Kimito came in and started inspecting the back room like he was determined to find a spot Ayato had missed while cleaning. He came up with little to nothing; Ayato mentally celebrated his triumph and Kimito had nothing to say on the matter. He merely got out the clay and told Ayato to get to work on cleaning the sink so the drains wouldn't get clogged. When that was done and his hands were covered with slimy clay residue, Kimito sniffed in disgust and told him to go wash up.

Then he swept the floor in the front room, wiped the shelves, and did the dusting. It was a double win for Kimito. Ayato wouldn't be sitting around being lazy, and the filth and fingerprints customers (and Ayato) brought inside with them would be scrubbed into oblivion.

After putting the duster back in its place in the back room, Ayato cleared his throat. "I'm done. What's next?"

Kimito was throwing the wedged clay on the wheel they kept here. His focus didn't waver, but his shoulders hunched. "Done with everything? Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir." Ayato tried not to scowl too visibly. This part was such a waste of time.

"The floor is swept?"

"Yes, sir."

"Every shelf wiped?"

"Yes, sir."

"If I go in there myself, I won't see a speck of dust?"

 _How good is your eyesight?_ As ancient as Kimito was, it should be failing by now. Ayato pursed his lips and considered his words for a millisecond. Kimito had a habit of switching his sentence structure to test Ayato and make sure he was listening to him, not saying "Yes sir" like a robot and tuning him out. He also had a habit of smacking Ayato upside the head when he was caught, so he would stop sounding like a broken record.

"Not a one, sir," he answered.

Kimito harrumphed like he didn't believe it, but kept throwing the clay as he spun the wheel. It was taking form quickly, an immediate sturdiness that was beyond Ayato's abilities just yet. A sturdiness he felt he could get closer to by the end of the summer, though. Or the year, more realistically.

"Handle the recycling next, then."

Ayato nodded and entered a side room, where they kept buckets of slip and scraps and slime. Fifteen feet away from the buckets, there were plaster molds on multiple shelves of drying racks where the slime could air out. Before it could go into the molds, however, it needed to be beaten into shape. That was why they had drills, attachments, and blenders lying around on an overturned barrel.

Picking up the bucket of clay scraps, he dumped them into one of the slip buckets. They sprinkled down like rain and gave the mixture an odd, crunchy, clumpy appearance. All of the gunk in these buckets reminded Ayato of… extremely unappetizing pudding.

"This stuff really is disgusting," he said to himself, then frowned when his voice echoed.

Busy in the back room, Kimito just grunted.

"It can still be of some use," he said, matter-of-fact but disinterested.

Ayato cracked a smirk, and before his impulse control could kick in, "Now I know exactly how you feel about me."

Outside the room, the pottery wheel slowed. "What was that?!"

"Nothing important, sir!" He grabbed the blender and started mixing the slip, scraps, and recycled clay into a usable purée. Any following protests from his father either died down or were lost to the buzzing of the blender.

Ayato could admit, beating the imperfections out of the slimy clay mixture was an excellent mode of stress relief. But then, there was another analogy to be made there. One he didn't want to think about. He frowned, shook his head, and poured everything into the plasters to dry.

Kimito hit him later for mouthing off.

* * *

On Friday and Saturday, more of Ayato's hours went into training at home than running the shop. They also, unknown to Kimito, went into glazing and firing something that Ayato had no intention of selling.

It was a coffee mug, and since Hisakawa had gotten into his head, he'd added a little purple to the green before the firing and glazing process. He had to confess, it turned out fairly attractive. Almost like a cup made of zoisite. Just looking at it, working on it and helping it take form, made him anxious. He was getting too hopeful now that the idea had become something tangible.

What was he thinking, being so eager to have it finished by her birthday? He would have to hold onto it until September, and make sure to hide it until then. He had no idea what Kimito would make of it if he saw it.

The last thing Ayato wanted was for Kimito to get suspicious. He'd been doing so well keeping Kimito at bay from the one thing he had to himself, a friendship with Yuri. And now this mug was just… standing out like an air bubble. Like a kiln kiss. A pottery pimple waiting to be popped.

Saturday evening gave him one or two breaks on training, since a scowling Kimito had to run to town to get more supplies. In the meantime, he instructed Ayato to unload the kiln himself. Ayato, who had snuck the mug into this batch, was overwhelmingly relieved and used this advantage to smuggle the finished product into his room.

His first instinct was to put it away in his desk drawer and be done with it. Instead, he lingered on his bed with the mug in his hand, running his fingers tentatively along the glassy surface.

He'd made this himself, with no interference, and it was… worthy. That was the best word for it. The word that best described his potter pride and his sense of accomplishment – almost paternal in its own way. It was polished and glossy and it looked like a gem. Girls liked gems, didn't they? Did they want to drink out of one, though?

Ayato laughed quietly. Maybe it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was a treasure and something palpable he could give to her. As long as he didn't break it or lose it or something before September.

He could keep it under wraps for that long. If he could hide his friendship with Yuri as long as he had, then he should have no problem keeping her gift out of sight—

"That's beautiful, Ayato. Did you make it?"

Ayato startled so badly that he lost his grip on the mug and fumbled gracelessly to catch it before it could hit the solid floor. He snapped a glance behind him, his heart still pounding in his ears.

His mother stood in the doorway, a surprised doe-eyed guilty look on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry for sneaking up on you like that," she said with a rueful but gentle half-smile. She gestured toward the ceramic in his hands. "I just… I was passing by your room and I couldn't help but notice… I love the colors."

"Well, thank you." Part of him swelled with pride that someone else noticed his own individual project, though another part of him flinched. It was definitely _not_ a good thing that his mother "couldn't help but notice." He needed to be more discreet.

His mother was still standing by the door frame with almost a shy childlike curiosity. Her eyes looked unusually bright. "That's for Yuri, isn't it?"

Good God! He really was transparent!

"For her birthday, in… in case I see her this summer." He broke their eye contact. "I feel like it's not going to happen, but I just wanted to have something. I was just hoping."

"Ayato, there is nothing wrong with hope," his mother said soothingly.

 _Is that what makes you stay with him?_ Ayato wanted to say it out loud, but he didn't dare. It would sully a moment he got all too rarely in this house.

"There's no hope if Father finds it," he said instead. He fidgeted with the mug, rotating it between his fingers. "I've been hiding it at the store, but for now I need to make sure it's somewhere he won't automatically notice like you did."

His mother frowned, thinking hard.

"I can take it for you," she said. The suggestion raised Ayato's attention and his head. Seeing his reaction, she smiled brighter, and her own posture straightened with a subtle confidence. "I know a place. If he even bothers to look, it'll blend in with the rest of my things. I can tell him it was a gift from the family."

Ayato wasn't sure. "But you'd be lying to him."

"I don't know about that. He can interpret 'family' however he wants. It's his choice." She shrugged modestly. "It's often his choice not to care what my side of the family says or does."

"He will if they're sending you pottery," Ayato reasoned. "That's a threat to his pride and his business."

"Not if I don't pay for them." She laughed, an unusual and sweet sound. "I don't think your father will notice or even care."

After giving it some thought, Ayato nodded, got up, and handed the mug to her. She wrapped her fingers very carefully around the piece, then held it to her chest protectively when they heard heavy footsteps approaching the house.

"That would be your father." He could see her folding back up into submissive mode, with just a hint of defense. Her neck hunched and she stiffened, concentrating. "You should go back out and meet him, get back to your chores. I'll be down shortly to take care of dinner." She gave him a little maternally assertive pat on the back and a push out the door. "Go!"

And that had been that. He and Kimito reconvened in the workshop, sanding some mugs and dishware before storing them carefully away. Kimito was crabby because he'd run out of green paint sooner than he'd thought – _oops_ – and they'd lost valuable training time from him going to the store, but they made it work. Rather, Kimito made _him_ work. Like squeezing blood from a turnip, he was worked to death, or until Kimito decided he couldn't have cold dinner on his conscience.

Mother treated them to green tea when they finally came inside, and Ayato felt himself calming down somewhat, On the other hand, drinking it reminded him of another time he'd dared to drink green tea peacefully, when Kimito wasn't the one sitting next to him. This was not the way he wanted to spend his summer break. But that was a strange thing to think about, because… really, it was the only way he'd ever known.

He crashed in his bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and thinking – _maybe_ – that all could change.

* * *

 **Preview:**

 _"I'm-not-Hayato."_

 _"I have those kinds of dreams all the time."_

 _"Is there something I should know about?"_

 _"Mother...?"_

 _"Don't take me for a fool."_

 _"It was a mistake."_

[Chapter 13]: **Obliteration.**


	13. Obliteration

**A/N: Okay, before we get too far into things, I feel it's my duty to remind you of TPS's abuse warning. Such is the fate of a Naoi-centric story. Be sure to read this chapter first and, if you're following HC, read _that_ update next as a pick-me-up if things get too dreary.**

 **Am I giving too much away? Onwards!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 13]: Obliteration_

* * *

 _His bedroom ceiling was gone. Now a broken tree branch swayed back and forth far above his head. Its rhythm was hypnotic and he faintly liked that it blocked the sun every few seconds, covering him in shade._

 _His eyes hurt. Everything hurt. It even hurt to breathe. He didn't want to try moving his arm again._

 _Hayato wasn't moving either. It must hurt him to breathe too, since he didn't sound like he was doing very much of it. Everything was quiet after the ringing in his ears had died down. Just the wind through the trees and soft bird sounds._

 _He was dead. That bit of knowledge hit him very suddenly, not as hard as the ground had. Hayato was dead and he wasn't. It occurred to him that Father would be angry about it. That maybe he should just close his eyes, and then Hayato would open his. He would die instead. Maybe that would work. So he did just that._

 _When he opened them again, not at all by choice, he was in a hospital room surrounded by doctors and nurses. Some people from town were talking to Father, paying their respects. Telling him how much they loved his son's work and hoped he would get well soon. Ayato stared at them, confused. Did they not know yet? Didn't Father tell them, or did he not know either?_

 _Father walked around to the side of Ayato's hospital bed and squeezed his hand… hard. If it was a comforting gesture, it didn't feel right at all._

" _Hayato just needs time to recuperate. After he rests up, he'll be back to business very soon." Father smiled at him, but it looked weird and distorted, just like how his voice sounded right now. So funny-sounding and garbled that he wasn't sure he'd heard him right._

 _Was Hayato really okay–?_

 _The hand squeezed a little harder. "Isn't that right, Hayato?"_

 _Ayato frowned up at him. "I'm not Hayato," he tried to say, but the words came out in a pathetic breath that even he couldn't hear._

 _The more he forced his voice, the more it felt like he was struggling to breathe. He got tired. The world faded around him._

 _Then he woke up and he was home, and his body didn't ache but he felt lost. Like he'd done something very wrong, and there was something dark and terrible that was trying to swallow him up for it._

 _Towering above him, Father was holding a deformed clay pot in his hand. He was white-faced and furious, standing out like a blinding light in the shadowy room, and he was shaking the pot at him like it was a tambourine._

" _What the hell is this trash?!" he snarled, raising his voice. "Hayato, what's wrong with you?!"_

" _I'm—not—Hayato," Ayato repeated, but getting each word out was like pushing a boulder up a hill, and his father heard nothing. "It's me." Still nothing. Just a breathy, hoarse whisper._

 _His father, on the other hand, was able to yell just fine._

" _You should be ashamed!" the man in front of him exploded. "This garbage is BENEATH you, Hayato!" The pot in his hands did the same; he'd tossed it out of the room in a fury and it hit a beam._

" _I'm—" He was trying so hard. So hard to appease him. So hard to get the words out._

"I'm not—"

He was relieved to hear his voice this time, but puzzled too, when his words broke the silence of his room. When Ayato opened his eyes, his bedroom ceiling was there but his father wasn't. As awkward as it was to wake himself up talking, he was soothed by it.

It was Sunday, anyway, and his father – Kimito, he was still in a dreamy childlike mindset – might be pleased that he'd woken up without his help.

Wait a minute, _Kimito? Pleased?_ He really was still dreaming.

While Ayato dressed, he couldn't help but linger over the scenes his subconscious had conjured up. Must have been from the other day, when he had that hallucination with his name. The "switching identities" thing was just a depressing joke, but that dream… It just showed how easily Kimito could have done that to him. He could have even convinced himself it was true. Could have convinced everyone, even Ayato.

Not that he would need to work very hard to do that, since it felt like the entire population of Akuma had mistaken him for his brother at least once. Except Yuri. The thought made him kind of wistful. Maybe Hayato's funeral wasn't huge, but one would think that people would get the memo when a child prodigy fell off a cliff and died. Maybe it slipped their minds sometimes. Maybe they really did think it had been Ayato.

He didn't want to think about that. Shaking off the thoughts, he swiped a comb off his desk and tried (uselessly) to tidy his hair. Once he gave that up, he glanced in the mirror to see if anything was wrong with his neck and throat. No bruises, no swelling. He pressed two fingers to his throat and hummed. Yes, he felt stupid doing it, but it was worth making sure he really could speak. Kimito expected to be acknowledged.

Sundays could be busy in the shop, so his being up early would quell a lot of Kimito's usual bad mood. His mother was in the kitchen making tea and breakfast when he came downstairs, and she smiled at him when he sat down. He may have even seen a wink vaguely covered up and disguised by her sip of tea. He figured she was happy that he'd trusted her with Yuri's coffee mug. Now that he thought about it, it was distinctly motherly of her. He gave in and returned her smile.

"You're up early," she noted, looking him over.

He shrugged. "Bad dream."

Setting a plate in front of him, concern flickered across her face. "Oh? What happened in it?"

The question gave him pause. Considering the dream's main theme, he would hate to ruin her inexplicable good mood. She was his mother, he couldn't just remind her of her son's death over breakfast. Not to mention the guilt trip that would ensue if he mentioned the Hayato aspect. She didn't deserve to have his troubles pile onto hers.

"It was just… I kept trying to speak." He swallowed, testing his throat again before digging into his food. "But I couldn't say anything. Every time I yelled, barely anything came out."

His mother softly hummed with sympathy.

"So you couldn't talk? I have those kinds of dreams all the time."

"You don't seem to have trouble talking when you're awake," said Kimito, not looking at her as he entered the kitchen. He sat down unapologetically and, after muttering a quick "itadakimasu," began to eat.

Ayato, although trying not to stare, was astonished that he could say that with a straight face and eat the food she made him. Did he forget he was married to the quietest woman in Akuma? She was so meek that apparently a few words was chatty and unusual behavior.

Though, well, yes it was. For her. But if he was married to her, Kimito should _want_ to hear her voice. It didn't make sense to marry someone if their voice didn't exactly fill you with joy. Honestly, if Ayato had a chance to hear Yuri's voice, he wouldn't be complaining or even making any wisecracks.

Not that Yuri was his wife! He choked on his tea—as noiselessly as he could, and luckily managed to compose himself. His face burned. Why would he make that comparison?

"You're bright red, Ayato." When he glanced up from his plate, Kimito was watching him with furrowed brows. "You and your mother are acting strange. Is there something I should know about?"

 _I thought you didn't want to hear anyone's voices._ "No, sir. Nothing."

Kimito squinted at both of them, but resumed eating after a dismissive grunt. An uninformed witness might think Kimito was trying to get his son to confide in him, but Ayato knew better. It wasn't like they were the type of family to have a deep, emotional discussion around the breakfast table.

Indeed, it was all business. Mother took their dishes to the sink, and Kimito sent Ayato to start his chores in the workshop. The old man trailed him there, and once he was satisfied that Ayato wasn't slacking off, he headed to the store to open up for the day.

Nothing special happened while he was doing chores, unless he counted dwelling on his dream and having a few identity and existential crises. To be honest, he'd never remembered dreams this vividly before, or for this long after waking up. Not until these last couple of months. They were just… kind of compelling. He had to give his subconscious credit for that; it created dreams that were more like stories.

He had to leave those thoughts behind once he was done cleaning up. Getting into work-mode, he fetched the box filled with yesterday's fired products and carried it down the trail to the store. Kimito had him cover stocking the shelves and tables while he handled the customers. As easy as it was to dissociate while stocking, he didn't dare embarrass Kimito when they had so many customers.

Even so, he kept an eye on the door from time to time. Kimito kept catching him and frowning suspiciously, as if he couldn't decide whether his boy was on the lookout for customers walking in or ready to make a break for it, and Ayato would contritely return to whatever task Kimito had assigned him. But then when Kimito was busy with someone and the bell jingled, Ayato would look again.

After all, it was two days until Yuri's birthday. If she had news or a scheme, he should see a sign of it soon. Shouldn't he?

Maybe not. Yuri wasn't exactly the most predictable person he'd ever met. In fact, the hope that came from that was partially what was getting him through the day. There weren't many other things to get excited about while working with Kimito.

Hayato would have liked it, of course. He actually enjoyed hanging out in the store, even though he had been too little to run it by himself. Ayato could just picture him swinging his legs back and forth on top of the stool or the counter, watching in fascination as their father did what he did best. Unless Kimito yelled, Hayato's reviews were usually glowing.

"Ayato," Kimito hissed as he passed the shelves on the way to the storage closet, "get your goddamn head out of the clouds and get back to work!"

Personally, he couldn't relate.

Honestly, though, Ayato was pleased and rather relieved by the time Kimito was about to head home and that had been one of his only reprimands of the day. Work days together were rarely conversational, but Kimito usually had more scathing comments than this. He must have been in a good mood, albeit a wary one, but in all fairness Ayato had had a few inattentive spells. Although his father wasn't outgoing, at least not in a cheerful extroverted way like Yuri, Ayato figured his good mood came from all the business they'd gotten today.

The man didn't sound overly gruff when he told Ayato to close up shop and that he'd be waiting for him at home. Ayato did as he was told, and even hummed a nameless tune while Kimito was gone. Maybe the good mood was his.

Hmm. If Kimito was going to keep making Ayato close up, maybe he really should have kept Yuri's mug in the cabinet hiding place. That way it would be ready and available if a Nakamura happened to drop by in the next few days. On the other hand, he kind of liked trusting his mother with it. He liked that she'd _asked_ to be trusted with it. Coming from her, it was a charmingly rebellious way of being maternal. He suspected part of that was because she liked Yuri so much.

All he could say to that was, well, his mother had very good taste. Which was a peculiar thing to think about the woman who fell in love with Kimito Naoi.

After tidying up and closing shop, Ayato took his time walking home. The only light left in the sky came from the moon and the stars, but somehow the sight of the full moon gave him an odd sense of comfort. Connection. To what or whom, he wasn't sure, but he liked the feeling of it as he trotted down the path through the dark forest. It was like spiritual company in a forbidden sense. He should be moving along, or he might jinx Kimito's mood. A gentle hooting in the distance soothed that worry back into the darkness. He continued his walk at a leisurely pace until he reached the edge of the estate.

The house looked darker than usual, with only a few lights on in a handful of rooms. His father must be trying to conserve energy again. It was energy that would be better served fueling the kiln, he'd always insisted. Ayato moved at a brisker pace as he made his way up the walk, finding that the darkness seeped into the mood of his home. He had a strange foreboding about the silence that enveloped the estate. It felt prickly, an intensity in the air that usually lingered after a fight.

If his parents had argued, that didn't surprise him. Maybe a little, considering he didn't seem surly the last time Ayato saw him. Or did he? He may not have been paying attention. But perhaps a lack of surliness just meant Kimito was overdue for a fight.

Strangely, that didn't ease his spirits.

One of the lights still on belonged to the spare room they had downstairs. It wasn't a good sign. The sliding door was shut, which was very rare – he didn't even close it when he was a kid and hiding out in there to play games – but he could see the light glowing from behind the walls.

As he came closer, the faint glow illuminated a figure kneeling on the engawa. His mother. Even in the dark, he could recognize her with her head bowed that deeply. At this point he could pick her out in a crowd by the roots of her hair. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she didn't look up at him even as he stepped onto the wood of the corridor.

"Your father wants to speak to you inside," she said quietly.

He'd heard this phrase, or variations of it, a thousand times, but constant exposure never dulled the nerves. What had he done this time? Did she know? Advanced warning might unravel the knot twisting in his stomach.

"Mother…?" he tried.

Nothing. She shook her head but kept it bent down, eyes closed like she was praying. The door opened, casting even more light on the engawa, and he caught a glimpse of a bloodied lip before he heard Kimito clear his throat. He would already have points docked for keeping Kimito waiting.

"Ayato." His voice was low and dangerous. "Inside, now."

Taking off his shoes, Ayato obeyed. The door stayed open behind them.

Kimito strode to the left corner of the room and picked something up off the table. He stood there for a moment, his back facing his son. The room was still and quiet; there was no sound except their breathing and the screeching of the cicadas somewhere out in the yard.

"I trust you remember," Kimito said, very quietly, "why I had to run to the store the other night."

Ayato's heart started thudding. This was not off to a good start. "For… for paint."

"Speak up!" Kimito barked.

"We ran low on a certain color of paint," Ayato repeated, trying not to picture _it_ in his head. There was a very real chance the man was a mind-reader.

"What color?"

He tried to quiet his breathing; the cicadas weren't muffling him as much. "Green?"

"Green?" Kimito echoed. He paced to the other corner, his back still turned to him. "You sound uncertain, Ayato. Are you sure you don't know anything about this?"

Ayato stared straight at the wall, refusing to let his eyes dart nervously. His father would stop pacing and notice; it would give him away. After all, Kimito had nothing else to go on. He couldn't prove Ayato had done anything, just like he couldn't prove he wasn't getting forgetful in his old age.

"I don't know, sir," he said. Kimito passed behind him, walking back to the table, and set something back down. Then the footsteps resumed. "Maybe since it's summer break, we're just going through it faster—"

Kimito sent a stinging slap across his face.

The force of the slap knocked Ayato's head to the side, but his father grabbed his chin and angled it towards him. Under the glow of the single ceiling light, he looked ghostly pale with anger, making his gold eyes even more piercing.

"Don't take me for a fool, Ayato." He released his grip on his face, only to wrap his fingers tightly around his arm and squeeze. "Tell me the truth. Right now."

The muscles in Ayato's cheek twitched painfully. It still burned, and his eardrums were ringing. He didn't say a word at first. Unlike the dream, he didn't want to; he could and yet he couldn't. He just stared back at Kimito with a tightened jaw, unblinking. "I'm telling you—"

Kimito backhanded him so fast his head spun. He yanked on Ayato's arm _—hard—_ and wrenched him to the ground, forcing him to kneel reverently in the center of the room. Then he marched back to the table. While he turned his back again, Ayato blinked back the tears burning at the corners of his eyes and hurriedly wiped away the ones that escaped. Kimito was mad enough already, he couldn't let him see him like this.

"You know what," said Kimito, walking to the front of the room. He turned in front of Ayato, his arms clasped behind his back. "You are a pathetic little liar. I'll bet I know who taught you to lie like that."

Ayato's heart skipped a beat. No, he couldn't know. He couldn't possibly be talking about her.

"What do you mean?" he asked, raising his head defiantly.

Kimito pursed his mouth into a thin line, narrowing his eyes into slits. He brought his arms out from behind his back and presented the object grasped tightly in his rough hands.

Yuri's birthday mug.

The sight left a bitter taste in Ayato's mouth, not like the coppery blood on his lip that had been split by Kimito's backhand. He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. How had he gotten his hands on—?

He looked over his shoulder, at his mother's trembling silhouette just outside the walls. He remembered her bloody lip.

Gritting his teeth, he clutched the fabric of his pants to keep his hands from quaking.

"You look at me right now." Wincing, Ayato corrected his gaze. Kimito tapped his fingers on the mug's glossy surface, his steely glare unwavering. "Look at what I have here. What color is it?"

"Green," Ayato said dully, daring not mention the purple first.

Kimito scoffed the word under his breath.

"So at least you're not blind." He gestured roughly with the mug to the wall behind Ayato. "I found this among your mother's things. She didn't make it. You did. Why does _this_ exist?!"

"It was a gift—"

"You thought you could waste my resources on a gift?!" he snarled, raising his voice. His right hand, the one that clenched around the mug, was shaking with rage. Ayato sucked in a breath; he couldn't take his eyes off of it. "You cost me kiln space – fuel – valuable time, you cost me my hard-earned money for a GIFT?!"

The mug gleamed green and purple each time it caught the glow of the ceiling light. A thousand panicked thoughts were racing through Ayato's head, and yet he watched, frozen, as if under a hypnotic spell.

"Goddammit, Ayato! This is useless trash!" Kimito bellowed. "She doesn't need your garbage GIFT!"

He flung Yuri's mug at the wall across the room. It flew over Ayato's head, hit a wooden beam, and obliterated into a hundred green and purple pieces.

Ayato let out a sharp breath, watching the fragments rain down on the floor like gems. He thought for a moment he'd gone deaf, the only sound in the room being the shrill echo of shattered ceramics. Then the cicadas were shrieking again, the wind rustling the grass just outside the door, and Kimito's growl cut through the thickness in the air.

"You do NOT take my materials without my permission!" he said darkly. "You do NOT make stupid, worthless _presents_ out of perfectly good clay! And you DO NOT drag your mother into this and have her lie to my face! Do you hear me?!"

"Yes sir," Ayato muttered, his head bowed.

It must not have been loud enough, because Kimito grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up.

"I said, do you HEAR me?!" he snapped.

"Yes sir," Ayato said, a little louder but through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry. It was a mistake."

Kimito let go of his hair and stood up straight. He looked at the corner of the room and sniffed disdainfully, forehead crinkling. After a moment, he headed outside.

"Clean this crap up and go to bed," said Kimito. He stepped off the engawa. "I don't know why you thought you could get away with this."

When he was gone, Ayato rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the sore spots. Then he stared blankly at the corner of the room, where Yuri's mug lay in pieces. Disoriented, he walked out onto the engawa and rounded the corner. His mother was there, still kneeling in that same spot. When she saw him standing in front of her, she finally raised her head.

"Ayato, I—"

"I have to go get the dustpan," he said, passing swiftly by her.

She didn't say a word in reply, only lowered her eyes again. They had nothing to say to each other now.

At the very least, he had learned one important thing from his mother tonight: there was absolutely everything wrong with hope.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!**

 **For two things. 1) Writing Naoi in pain. 2) Not having a lot of material for the preview. I'll try to come back and edit them when I've made more progress on TPS. For now, it's 1791 words with a tentative title.  
**

 **Christmas break will be here before I know it, which will give me time to write. Until then... so ends this half of TPS season 1!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

 _"What day is it?"_

 _"July 26th."_

 _"I'll close up tonight."_

 _"-you sound like a villain."_

 _"Daydream on your own time."_

 _"Who better to ask than the potter's son?"_

 _[Chapter 14]:_ **Beseech.**


	14. Beseech

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I know this fic isn't as popular as Heartbreak Cure, but as a prequel it is important to me and kind of serves as a foundation for HC's storyline. Thus I've been working on this one whenever I have the energy, because there's a certain arc I want to finish before I get back to to business. I'm actually very close to finishing it (the arc, not the fic!), so if my health keeps improving as it did yesterday and things don't get too busy, I should be getting back to writing HC soon.**

 **In the meantime, I had fun writing SEVEN new chapters this month (shoutout to the Jaime x Brienne tag on Tumblr for introducing me to "Finish It February," seriously BLESS YOU ALL). Here's to more WIP success onward! Maybe I'll even finish a certain other AB piece, one I'll just introduce as "Overnight in an Abandoned Mall." Y'know, as a while-you-wait thing.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 14]: Beseech_

* * *

Monday morning breakfast was silent, save for a derisive comment from Kimito when his wife joined the table with her tea. ("You see that, Ayato? Your mother already _has_ a mug.")

Ayato acknowledged him monotonously but didn't look up. He didn't want to look at either of them very much today.

The only thing that even slightly appeased him was that Kimito thought the gift had been meant for his mother. He still didn't know about Yuri. After all, who else could it be for? Who'd want to be friends with his pathetic liar son? Who would even bother?

In a twisted way, it was lucky Kimito thought like that. But now it didn't really matter who he'd actually made the mug for. There was no mug to speak of. It was in the garbage, just where Kimito said it belonged.

What a waste.

After breakfast, Ayato and Kimito convened at the store. The latter painted in the back while Ayato stocked shelves until they were ready to open up. As usual, Kimito barked orders at him and coolly asked him questions about things like inventory as if last night had never even happened. Ayato supposed, sarcastically, that it meant he'd just done such a fine job tending to his split lip that Kimito figured he'd imagined the whole thing.

Not that he could've left it as it was. Kimito wouldn't let him open up shop with a busted lip or a shiner unless he was confident he could wave off any questions from nosy customers with "he got into a scuffle at school" and a quip about teenaged boys. Those excuses didn't fly during summer break. Not everyone minded their own business, so Ayato usually had to make the evidence go away or Kimito would promise to make it worse later.

Most of the time, Kimito was wise enough to make his mark on places that could be covered up – legs, arms, back, stomach – but there were times like Sunday night where Ayato made him so furious that he acted impulsively. He always blamed him for it afterwards. Then it would get covered up and he'd go on to pretend that bygones were bygones.

Customers came in and out, Ayato greeting and dismissing them as he should, them not noticing anything or anyone but the merchandise. Young couples came in looking tanned or sunburnt and ready to buy teapots, cookware, and flowerpots for their new place. Who went to buy pottery right after going to the beach? That's what he kept wondering.

One man, a few years older than him, tapped a woman on the shoulder and surprised her with a pretty lapis lazuli colored mug. She immediately went starry-eyed.

"That's perfect!" Beaming, she kissed him on the temple. "This is exactly what I want."

Ayato frowned and glanced away, returning his focus to scrubbing the counter. Public displays of affection were so strange.

He elected to pay attention to the little kids with colorful mouths who were coming in while spending time with their grandparents. They'd clearly indulged in some kakigōri, and had a proclivity towards touching shelves, counters, and shiny ceramics with their sticky fingers.

Ayato spent a lot of the work day cleaning and ringing up purchases. Just when he was thinking the less time he spent with Kimito the better, the man demanded that he come to the back room and wedge the clay. Of course.

On the bright side, Kimito let him do his work instead of pushing him out of the way to correct him. Maybe he was too busy to care, meticulously painting intricate designs on some vases.

"What day is it?" Kimito asked out of nowhere, breaking the stony silence between them.

"July 26th," Ayato said, not missing a beat.

Kimito grunted. "We're not as off schedule as I thought."

Ayato didn't care about a stupid schedule. Of course they weren't off schedule. He was off from school, and they were bursting with productivity thanks to him. That paint and clay shouldn't have made a goddamn difference.

"Go home," Kimito said shortly. He side-eyed him for a millisecond, and his lip curled. "I'll close up tonight."

Ignoring what was left unsaid, Ayato checked out the window. It was pitch black with another bright, round moon. Who knows, maybe a werewolf would put him out of his misery. He pulled off his work apron, hung it up on a hook, and left without a word. If Kimito wanted to close up and make sure to search every inch of the shop for hidden treasures or stolen paint, Ayato had no problem with that. The longer the man stayed there, the better.

He walked the ten minutes home alone – for the most part. A creature howled once in the distance and briefly got his hopes up. He only stopped in his tracks when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. A rustle in the grass and thicket.

Alright, he was bluffing. He admired wolves, certainly, but if they still existed in these parts he didn't want to get mauled by one. Taking a breath, he turned his body slowly and carefully to the left to see what he was dealing with.

A doe. It was a doe, standing close enough to him that he could have tossed her a snack. She peered at him with glowing yellow eyes, stock still and alert. Though wary, her gaze turned almost gentle, like she wanted to tell him something.

Hayato had met a deer once. Or so he said, in the midst of a game of hide-and-seek when he had failed to find a hiding place in time and Ayato had cried triumphantly that he had found him. His brother had said he _did_ find a place, but then the deer approached him because he was alone and being quiet. He swore that the animal had come really close to him, and he'd let it smell his hand. It had only run away after it heard Ayato coming.

Ayato had chosen not to believe it, because he was already fuming at the idea that a deer had wanted to meet Hayato and not him. That was bad enough. It would be worse to think that an animal had run away from him. He had been so jealous, he didn't want to believe it existed.

Now, he understood the sparkle he'd seen in his brother's eyes. The way he'd found him standing there in the forest, his mouth wide open like he'd seen God.

The doe lowered her head slightly, as if nodding at him. Her ears lost their pricked forward stance. She continued to stare at him, and he stared back. Pins-and-needles static fuzzed inside his head. He felt like he was frozen in time, savoring the moment. Or channeling another life.

He shook his head sharply, clearing the haze. No, there was no other life but this one he was living right now. The one where Kimito would be storming his way down the path any minute.

It was better that he walk away first. Even if she didn't run from him like the one in his childhood, she would just be scared off by Kimito eventually. He wasn't foolish enough to hold on to moments like these when he knew Kimito would end up destroying them.

Ayato nodded at the doe reverently, turned, and kept walking towards the estate. The forest stayed eerily quiet behind him.

* * *

Tuesday started out a little different from yesterday. He had another dream about that school again, but he couldn't remember a lot of it because Kimito was dragging him out of bed in no time. He needed to stop having these weird school dreams; they kept making him sleep in because they were too interesting.

Mostly what he remembered was that one guy who reminded him of Hejjiguchi rounding up a ragtag baseball team and challenging him and the student body president to a game. This may have been the same guy who told him in a previous dream that the president was an angel. In that dream, it had sounded plausible and really freaked him out. Now he believed it a little, but it was not quite as compelling as sitting in the bleachers and watching this guy and some girl tie each other into pretzel knots on the baseball field.

He thought he might have even heard another peal of villainous laughter in the distance near the fence, except it sounded like it was coming from a walkie talkie.

"-you sound like a villain," said some girl on the other end.

The dream had abruptly ended there, and later while he opened up shop he found himself wondering which team won. He wouldn't be surprised if the idiots' team came close but sabotaged themselves with another one of those ridiculous wrestling matches. If this were a story, that'd be the ending he would've written.

The only frustrating thing about these dreams was that as soon as his mind started trying to tell him the faces looked familiar, they faded and fuzzed in his memory. The voices became garbled. It was like grasping too late for a pencil that rolled off his desk, far beyond even his foot's reach.

He didn't mind forgetting about this one, though. It being about a baseball game, he was sure it was just his subconscious reminding himself how much he missed Yuri. Maybe the two idiots wrestling symbolized something, like playfulness, or being restrained by Kimito, and the emotionless angel president was one of his parents—

"Ayato!"

Blinking, he instinctively straightened his shoulders and followed the voice by turning to the right. Kimito frowned at him from the entrance to the back hallway.

"Daydream on your own time," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry, sir." Ayato scrutinized the shop. It was a little after noon, and the morning flow had ebbed. "It's just gotten quiet in here."

"A slow day is no excuse for a slow mind," said Kimito, beckoning him with a hand. "If you're so bored, come back here and be helpful to me."

Repressing a sigh, he followed him to the back and got a broom shoved into his grip. Ayato clenched his jaw as he swept up clay scraps while Kimito sculpted handles for mugs. So that was why he wanted him back here. His father was so petty.

It wouldn't do him any good to linger over it. Kimito was right, no matter who he meant. She didn't need his stupid gift. Her parents could get her something so much better, like a car that she wouldn't even be able to drive for another year, or an adorable kitten that could give her the company she couldn't get from him outside of school.

By all accounts, he really shouldn't have bothered. What could he possibly offer Yuri that her parents couldn't buy a whole store's worth?

After all…

"Are your daydreams clogging your eardrums?" Kimito snapped.

The broom stilled in Ayato's grip. His autopilot had kicked in and now he wasn't so much sweeping scraps as he was… displacing them.

"What," he said carefully.

Kimito's features hardened, but he didn't look like he was about to raise his voice. His jaw set, he returned his attention to the little mug handles he rolled like worms. And then, as if speaking to a child: "The bell, Ayato. The front door?"

Sure enough, when Ayato listened closely, he could hear at least one customer out in the front. Some footsteps and then a cleared throat.

"Go out there and deal with them," Kimito said, waving him away. "You're obviously useless to me in here."

Ayato did as he was told, setting aside the broom and leaning it against the doorway before making his escape into the hall. It was a relief that Kimito found as little joy in his company as he did with him. Compared to Kimito, he would rather see anyone else.

He stepped out into the front room, emerging behind the counter, and opened his mouth to greet the customer.

"Welcome to the store—"

The words strangled him when his eyes saw clearly.

Standing in the middle of the room, grinning triumphantly like she'd just won an unspoken bet, was none other than Yuri Nakamura. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot as if he'd kept her waiting. But just as suddenly as she'd appeared, so did the expression on her face transform into innocent cordiality.

"Hi – you remember me, right? We're in the same year at Akuma High." She arched her neck to look over his shoulder. "Is your father here?"

Her acting skills were uncanny. Ayato blinked twice, then nodded, playing along.

"Just a moment…" He had no idea what the hell was up her sleeve, but he returned to the hallway anyway and called for his dad. "It's the Nakamuras' daughter!"

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of water running in the sink. Kimito emerged fifteen seconds later with moderate haste, wiping clay residue from his hands with a cloth. His expression remained stoic when he saw Yuri standing in front of the counter, but at his side, Ayato quietly imagined the man's pupils sharpening into yen signs.

"Is there something I can help you with, Nakamura?" he asked, in a gruff yet still abnormally cordial tone. For a moment, he seemed to be looking straight past her, and when Ayato followed his gaze, he could see why. Outside the door, a familiar couple was waiting on the sidewalk chatting to each other. Then Mrs. Nakamura held up a finger and took a call, while Mr. Nakamura looked mildly interested in window-shopping.

Catching onto their unspoken question, Yuri got straight to the point.

"Yes, actually." She gestured lazily over her shoulder. "But my parents won't be coming in, because we agreed that if they come in and look around, it'll be sundown before I'm able to drag them out."

Kimito stared stonily back at her. As long as their visit ended in him counting stacks of their money on his desk, that wouldn't be much of a problem to him.

Undeterred, she pressed on. "As much as they love your work, Mr. Naoi, they promised we'd spend the day at the beach for my birthday. That's the real reason I'm here." She flashed the man an astonishingly chipper smile. "They said I could invite my friends and classmates along, and I figured, who better to ask than the potter's son?"

At first Ayato struggled not to react, but then masked his wide eyes as baffled humility. Going after Kimito's desire for influence and high regard, especially among her rich parents? Impressive.

"So," Yuri leaned over the counter just a bit, almost conspiratorially, "can I borrow him for a while, or is he something I'll have to buy off your hands?"

Ayato dared a look in his father's direction. Every bone in Kimito's face tightened, and he was breathing like a bull with his mouth pursed in such a thin line. Occasionally his eyes darted to the window, where Yuri's parents were still waiting. He was keenly aware that he had an audience. Even Mrs. Nakamura glanced inside while the phone was pressed to her ear.

They didn't expect their daughter to take so long. After all, their beloved Yuri was asking for something for her birthday. Even if his son was working today, would the esteemed potter really deny something to his most loyal patrons? It was all Ayato could do to keep himself from smirking gleefully.

Kimito was trapped. Yuri had him completely trapped.

What would he do now?

Briefly, Kimito side-eyed Ayato, who inwardly scrambled to look solemn and obedient. Of _course_ he would never dishonor the family business by ditching. But if it would make their best customers happy…

"I'll allow it," said Kimito. As clearly as the odds were stacked in their favor, it didn't stop Ayato from nearly choking on his own tongue. It actually _worked?_ Then, as if sensing his son's lack of composure, Kimito rounded on him with a firm staredown. "If you can make up for lost productivity afterwards. But you better behave yourself today, Ayato."

Ayato nodded very seriously, biting down on his lip hard so as not to let loose the dangerous words that had come to mind: _If there's one thing you've taught me better than pottery, it's to keep my hands to myself._

"Yes, sir," he said instead.

He hung up his work apron on the hook and walked straight out the door beside Yuri without looking back. There were two or three more angry bull-snorts, and then Kimito's footsteps disappeared into the backroom.

* * *

Seconds after he and Yuri emerged from the store, as soon as the walls blocked them from Kimito's view, Ayato pulled Yuri into his arms. She tried not to laugh too triumphantly, and muffled most of it in his collarbone. Her gleeful hum vibrated pleasantly against his skin while his "happy birthday" got lost in her hair.

When they broke apart, he kept his hands on her shoulders as he got a good look at her. Had her eyes always been this green? He'd forgotten.

"Didn't think I could pull that one off, did you?" Yuri jabbed, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Remember what I told you about 'the girl who cried wolf,'" Ayato said. Yet he was having a hard time wiping the grin from his face after holding it in for so long. "But still, I had no idea it would be that simple."

"Simple!" Yuri feigned indignation, placing both hands on her hips. "I'll have you know that was a well-thought-out operation."

Ayato laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Hey now," came a deep voice from behind them. "It's bad manners to flirt with a girl in front of her father without at least shaking his hand first!"

They both spun around, red-faced. "Dad!" Yuri complained, aghast.

"Kaishou, don't embarrass them like that on her birthday," Mrs. Nakamura scolded him, clicking her phone shut and dropping it in her purse. Then she adjusted the straps of her bag to free her long hair (usually partially in a bun, probably worn down for the beach day) and reached out to take Ayato's hand. "It's nice to see you outside of work, Naoi."

"Thank you for having me." Ayato cleared his throat, trying not to show that he was sweating already. She had a point; they'd never really spoken outside of a business context. What if he poorly represented his father's company? He was in a situation where he could accidentally insult the Nakamuras, tarnish Kimito's business, and ruin Yuri's birthday in one fell swoop!

No, he couldn't think about that. It was kind of embarrassing. He was Kimito Naoi's son – what was he doing, being terrified of Yuri's parents?

"Our Yuri wouldn't have it any other way," said Mr. Nakamura as they shook.

Mrs. Nakamura nodded her agreement, beaming. "I'm not surprised she was so eager to invite you. We've heard nothing but good things about you since April. Every time we get back from a trip or give her a call and ask for an update, you're the first thing she—"

"Ahem!" Yuri gave her a wide-eyed, extremely distressed look.

"Am I talking too fast?" Mrs. Nakamura said innocently. Yuri's expression didn't waver; she tapped a sandaled foot and whined slightly, which made her mother laugh. "Alright, alright. Let's get going, then!"

They stopped by Ayato's house, where he made record time in finding the trunks he hadn't even worn since his last mandatory swimming class. For once he was glad he ever took that class, or else the only other option he'd have would be the pair he wore when he went swimming with Hayato. He couldn't even remember the last time Kimito let them go to a pool. He changed, threw on a different shirt, and made his way downstairs… only to find the Nakamuras talking in the foyer with his mother.

She perked up when she spotted him. "So! You and Yuri are going to the beach today, right?"

Part of him wanted to say something snide. It was taking a lot of willpower, but disrespecting her in front of Yuri's parents wouldn't be ideal for anyone involved. He held his tongue and nodded. "Yeah. Father already told Yuri it was okay." Once Mr. and Mrs. Nakamura stepped outside first, he couldn't get out the door fast enough. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Ayato."

He slowed on the porch, and begrudgingly turned around.

At first she blinked, as if she hadn't expected him to listen. Then she smiled hesitantly and bowed her head. "Have a good time."

"Thanks."

The door shut behind him. He headed down the trail and caught up with the Nakamuras at their car, where Yuri was already waiting for him in the back seat with a snack in hand.

"Your mom is so nice," Yuri said, nibbling at something powdery white with a yellow center. "I told her it was my birthday, and she said 'I heard!' and gave me this lemon bar. Was that your idea? I told you that you didn't have to get me anything."

"No, that was all her." Ayato tried not to sound glum. A lemon bar was just a morsel. Did his mother really think that could ever compare with… or even make up for… ugh, he couldn't afford to think about it. "Besides, her present was that box lunch of your favorites. Remember? On the last day of school?"

Yuri hummed her approval, leaning back against the seat. "Your mom is a great cook."

"Getting a little jealous up here," Mrs. Nakamura said, while Mr. Nakamura put the car into gear and started driving away.

"Sorry, Mom. I'll save you a bite."

Mr. Nakamura snickered so hard into his fist that his wife had to glare at him to stop. All the same, he played innocent. "She's allowed to sass you, Ehana. It's her birthday!"

"Both hands on the wheel," Mrs. Nakamura said coolly.

The ride went pretty smoothly despite that. Yuri's parents didn't seem to mind each other's teasing or sarcastic comments, but that was the distinct difference between them and his parents – the comments were lighthearted. Flirty, even. Laced with chemistry and genuine affection. A couple of times, Ayato glanced over at Yuri with a raised eyebrow when her mother teased her father about his driving, and her father just laughed. Did that really just happen peacefully? A kid could grow up well-adjusted exposed to stuff like this.

Their banter went on uninterrupted for quite a while. In fact, twenty minutes passed before Ayato realized something. They hadn't made any other stops. Not since they dropped by his place.

"Aren't we picking up anyone else?" he asked, turning to Yuri with a furrowed brow. "I thought your parents said you could invite a bunch of your friends and classmates along."

Yuri waved it off dismissively. "Yeah, but I only told your dad that to make it sound like some big bash." She opened one eye, glancing out the window as she spotted a road sign for the beach just ahead. Then she turned back to him. "This is just you and me, okay? Since we don't get a lot of chances to spend time together outside of school."

"Hm," he said, and let her change the subject. That made sense, but…

It was her birthday. Why wouldn't it be a big bash? He half-expected to get out of the car and have Hejjiguchi, Ami, Kurimu, maybe half their grade waiting with noisemakers. Not that he wasn't grateful to have her all to himself today.

Though honestly, now that he thought about it, Yuri's social life was a total mystery to him. She could be going to parties every curfew-less school day after walking home with him, or having sleepovers with her other friends all summer and he wouldn't even know.

" _Tell Yuri I said…"_

Ayato frowned as an image of blue eyes and red-brown hair invaded his thoughts.

Hisakawa. Yuri had never mentioned a Hisakawa.

"Hey!"

Fingers started snapping in front of his face; Yuri quickly brought him back down to Earth. He could see sand and ocean not too far off in the distance, outside Yuri's window.

"Sorry," Ayato said sheepishly. "I zoned out for a second."

"Zoning out like that," Yuri scoffed, feigning offense. "You haven't even seen me in my bikini yet."

Ayato laughed, but in the rearview mirror, Mr. Nakamura looked very depressed. "Daughters shouldn't say such things on their seventh birthday."

Yuri's entire face seared crimson. "Seventeenth, Dad!"

"Seventeenth?" he echoed, wrinkling his forehead. Turning slightly, he whispered aside to his wife, "How long were we gone this time?"

Yuri buried a groan in a double face-palm, while Ayato snorted with laughter. Mrs. Nakamura simply shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Naoi. We haven't embarrassed our daughter like this in a long time."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Nakamura. I'm taking notes," Ayato said politely.

"Ughhh…" Yuri covered her face with a towel.

Ayato smirked at her as the car came to a stop in the beach parking lot. This was going to be more fun than he thought.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I've never known a Naoi to be lecherous."_

" _You can't even wait for one whole minute?"_

" _What did you trust her with, anyway?"_

" _That girl kind of reminded me of you."_

" _It's your fatherly duty!"_

" _He's a hard sell."_

" _Maybe we can work something out."_

[Chapter 15]: **Persuasion.**


	15. Persuasion

**A/N: This is a long one, but I had fun with it! Health is so-so, but feeling better than yesterday. Slow and steady, I guess? Luckily I've started Chapter 22, so I'm a few chapters away from this catching up with me. Also, I told myself I would work on HC after I made it to a certain TPS milestone, and lucky for me that milestone is closer than ever. In fact, I recently came up with an angsty idea that would flesh out the part between point A and point B.**

 **Well, enough of that. I forgot to say this last time, but thanks for any and all new faves/follows/reviews! Zain, I think you'll like this chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 15]: Persuasion_

* * *

Ayato helped Yuri and her parents set up their towels and umbrella a little ways up from the water. Despite the convenient spot they picked out, Mrs. Nakamura settled down in a beach chair with a book and went straight to tanning.

"I'm telling you," Yuri said, rolling her eyes and plunking her multicolored bag down in the sand and fishing through it for sunscreen. "They're wearing their swimsuits, but it's all for show. They'll be in the water a grand total of five minutes all day."

"They can hear you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Look again."

He looked. Her book temporarily resting on her lap, Mrs. Nakamura was putting her ear plugs in with one hand and scrolling through an iPod with the other. Next to her, Mr. Nakamura was busily slathering himself in lotion. If he had heard his daughter's jab, he didn't mind.

"They really do not give a damn, do they?" Ayato said quietly, laughing a little. It was weird thinking this about businesspeople like the Nakamuras, but they were much more laidback than he was used to.

Yuri shrugged. "They've been entertaining me all month. It's your turn."

Then, as her fingers fell to the hem of her T-shirt, Mr. Nakamura spoke up. "Hey, Naoi, want to hear a joke?"

Ayato turned to him, somewhat confused. "Sure, what is it?"

He'd finished applying sunscreen and tossed it aside for the next person to use; now he was casually tapping away at his phone with a sly grin on his face. "Did you hear the one about the father who acted as a diversion for a boy while his daughter stripped down to her bathing suit?"

"I don't think I have, sir."

Mr. Nakamura laughed, a mixture of evil and giddiness. "Eh, you'll get it when you have one of your own."

Feeling rather played, Ayato turned back to Yuri – who had indeed ditched her shirt and shorts in favor of a mint green two-piece, with a skirt-like bottom half that showed off her legs. She'd crossed her arms firmly in front of her chest, but it wasn't Ayato she was frowning at.

"Dad, come on." Her face was beet red. "He was going to see me in my swimsuit anyway."

"Yeah, but this way, you didn't have to give him a little show."

Mrs. Nakamura pulled an earbud out and threw him a dull look. "Kaishou, don't be like that."

Her husband put on a pair of sunglasses and sat back in his beach chair. "Sorry. I'm a dad first and a friend second."

"I've never known a Naoi to be lecherous," Mrs. Nakamura said absently. She glanced over the top of her book at him. "You're a perfect gentleman, aren't you, Naoi?"

"Yes ma'am," Ayato said, vehemently ignoring the playback that subsequently flashed through his head of every single time he fake-flirted with her daughter in the last three months.

"And anyways, it's not like he's my boyfriend or anything like that." Yuri sat on the edge of the beach chair next to her mom, who set aside her book and applied sunscreen to her back. "We're just really good friends is all."

Mr. Nakamura rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, that's a shame." He lowered his sunglasses to wink and flash Naoi a big grin. "If the potter's son was your boyfriend, we could get a bunch of free stuff!"

Ayato returned the grin.

"That's the best joke I've heard all day," he said. Then, more humbly, "Sadly, I don't think my dad has a sense of humor."

"Yeah," Mr. Nakamura said with a dismissive grin, stretching his arms behind his head. "That's what I figured too."

Ayato didn't hear much from the Nakamuras after that, save for a few comfortable sounds and words of acknowledgement when Yuri told them that she and Ayato were heading to the water. It was a rare moment, seeing the couple so relaxed. Although, Mrs. Nakamura was still reading, listening to music, and tanning all at the same time. She was a multitasker, that woman. Always seemed to need some sort of stimulant.

"Hey." Yuri touched his wrist; he turned to face her. "You don't mind getting your shirt wet?"

She said it with a certain eyebrow twitch that was silently asking more. He hesitated at first, rubbing his arm and looking out towards the waves. No, he didn't want to wear a soaked t-shirt for the rest of the day. And, well, anything he was hiding that hadn't faded by now… could easily be explained to her parents as a clumsy moment in the workshop.

"You can go on ahead," he told her, bending down to grab the sunscreen. "I'll meet you down there in a minute."

Satisfied with his answer, Yuri gave him a quick nod and trotted down to the water. While her back was turned to the beach, Ayato reached behind his head and tugged off his shirt.

He'd just squeezed out a handful of lotion when Mr. Nakamura spoke up. "That must've been quite a bruise on your back."

Ayato froze for a second, then shrugged.

"Yeah, well…" He coated his right shoulder blade in sunscreen. "The tables in the workshop have sharp corners." Not a lie, after all.

Mr. Nakamura groaned in sympathy, but made no more mention of it after that. Ayato relaxed, grateful for Yuri's parents' vacation-mode brains, and finished applying the lotion in peace.

When he caught up to Yuri, she was tying her hair up with a green ribbon, allowing the sun to graze the back of her neck. She was only in deep enough that the sea licked at her ankles before receding. He padded onto the wet sand – and quickly wrestled a grimace as the water came back for more. So cold! How had he not heard a bloodcurdling scream from Yuri a minute ago? Then again, maybe Yuri was more used to beach days than he was.

Reaching out, he tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and spun around with a barely muffled squeak. He smirked triumphantly back at her. There, that was all he wanted!

"Hey," she said casually, as if nothing had happened. "I was just about to go in without you."

"You can't even wait for one whole minute?" he asked, still grinning.

"Life's too short." The way she said it was flippant, but for a second there her expression turned distant. He knew all too well what she was thinking of.

To bring her back down to Earth, he kicked a little at the tide. "It will be when we're frozen by this water in the next ten minutes."

That did the trick. Yuri blinked a couple of times, then flashed him a teasing grin. "What, can't get used to it? Too cold even for your calloused tough-guy potter skin?"

"Hey!"

Yuri actually _giggled_. It sounded more girlish than malevolent, but he knew her better. "Wait till Ami, Kurimu, and Hejjiguchi find out their favorite brooding bad boy can't handle the ocean—"

Ayato kicked up some waves and flung them back at her as he strode further into the water. He particularly relished in her indignant screech.

But also, her jabs had inadvertently reminded him of Mr. Positivity's hydrophobia. And no way in hell was he going to let himself be on the same level as Hejjiguchi.

When he didn't hear the splash of her footsteps behind her, he turned back around. Yuri was still standing where he'd left her, sizing him up with a slight lift of her eyebrow. He suddenly felt very aware of his skin, and the mark her dad had noticed. But that was nothing she hadn't seen before, right?

"What?" Ayato said, crossing his arms.

A soft red tinted Yuri's cheeks once she'd been caught, but the surprise soon faded into a composed half-grin.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just…" She batted her eyelashes at him. "I knew you had pottery muscles, but I had no idea you were so ripped."

"Shut up," Ayato said, rolling his eyes. He turned around so she wouldn't catch the smirk on his face and know her stupid stunt had worked. Weirdly enough, he felt a little less bare.

The water became tolerable after a while, so they got up to their shoulders in it and basked for a while, catching each other up on their summers.

"What time do you think you saw the deer?" Yuri asked, once he was almost through his own update.

"I don't know, maybe 21:00. Why?"

Yuri shrugged, bracing her back against a rock. "Might've been around the time I considered calling you to let you in on the plan." She beamed and opened one eye to look at him. "But it was more fun this way!"

"And instead you subconsciously sent me a message via one of your animal friends," Ayato cooed. "How sweet."

Yuri snorted so hard she almost got a mouthful of seawater. "Animal friends! Who am I, Snow White?"

"Better talk my mother out of making apple turnovers," he said in mock horror.

" _Ayato. Have a good time."_

The memory, featuring a disheveled hair bun and flour-coated cooking apron, vanished as quickly as it had entered and was replaced with a stock-still silhouette from Sunday. Though he tried to hide it, his good mood dissolved like sugar. And damned if Yuri wasn't ten times more perceptive than her parents.

"What's wrong?" Yuri narrowed her eyes at him. It was her nonverbal way of demanding the truth. "Any time we mention your mom, you look like somebody whose sports team just lost."

Ayato chewed on his lip, tasting the salt in the air. "It's… nothing. I found out I can't count on her, but that's nothing new."

"You can count on her for food," Yuri said helpfully, but sobered up when Ayato gave her a look. "Okay, well… what happened? What'd she do? Or, not do…?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." He hated to mope when today was supposed to be about her birthday, and even thinking about that added to his gloom. "Basically, I tried to trust her with something important. Kimito found out about it the next day. I shouldn't have bothered with her."

Yuri frowned. "Wait. She _told_ him, or he found out about it?"

"She could have hid it better!" Ayato snapped. When Yuri arched her brows at him, he winced and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, it's just… she caved. It was her idea and either she didn't hide it very well or she caved. And I was so stupid to risk it."

"Risk what?" Yuri pressed. "What did you trust her with, anyway?"

"Forget it." He really didn't want to get into that. There was no need to bum her out about his own gift guilt. Better for her to think he didn't bother than for her to find out and blame herself.

There was a brief silence, before Yuri muttered, "Still, knowing Kimito, it was probably out of her control."

"Really, forget it."

He searched desperately for a different topic to distract her. The Hisakawa mystery? But how would he casually work that in… how would they have known each other…

" _We used to do gymnastics together—"_

There it was. He cleared his throat and gave her a more easygoing grin.

"Today's about you, not my mom. I see her all the time." He moved to lean against the rock next to her. "Though… I know you said this is a 'you and me' day, but I'm surprised you didn't invite any of your friends from the gymnastics team."

Maybe it was a shift in a shadow, but he thought for a moment her face darkened at the mention of gymnastics.

"Damn it, I never should have told you about that," she mumbled under her breath. She turned to face him just as he raised his eyebrows meaningfully at her. What was so bad about him knowing? What was he going to do, make fun of her for participating in a sport? "Listen, um… That's not something I…"

Her eyes kept darting away from him. Her smile looked fairly forced.

Ayato tried to withdraw his inquisitive stare, but now her reaction was making him even more curious. Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up?

Finally, she extended her hand. "How about… I won't ask about your thing if you don't ask about mine?"

"Deal!" They shook.

Regarding the… incident with his parents, Ayato could breathe a sigh of relief that Yuri wouldn't delve into it any further. She'd probably insist that he was gift enough, but get even more furious on his behalf. He had a feeling he was testing her limits when it came to standing on the sidelines.

But still, even if he couldn't ask…

What about gymnastics would put Yuri in such a dismal mood? For a moment there, he thought her signature charisma was broken.

It was the same hesitation, same rift in confidence, he'd seen in Hisakawa before she left.

What had happened between them?

Well, she'd tell him when she told him. In any case, for the time being it might be wise not to bring up Hisakawa's visit if it bothered her that much.

Their agreement turned out to be for the best. Yuri switched the conversation back to a summer recap while they ventured out farther and treaded water for a while. As shocking as Yuri found this, Ayato was pretty sure this was the first time in maybe a decade that he'd gone swimming in the ocean. Kimito Naoi simply was not a beach-goer. If he had any vague, real memories of the beach, it was because Hayato begged for it. And his mother might've considered it a healthy family outing. But he didn't trust his memories sometimes, ever since he read from a psychology book that they could be faked.

All he knew for damn certain was that it felt especially amazing to float on his back in the water and let the waves gently rock him. Even when some of them went for his head.

Yuri, who had climbed onto another rock structure, peeked over at him with her chin resting on her arms.

"I've never seen you so relaxed," she mused, and threw him a bright smile. "If only your true love Kurimu could look at you now."

He carefully angled his head enough to glare at her – and then a wave crashed over her rock, almost knocking her off-balance as it drenched her. He could safely say that the eternal memory of Yuri spitting dripping wet bangs out of her face and glaring at him like a smote mermaid was worth getting sprayed with broken sea foam.

"Hey, thanks for blocking that for me," he said.

She slapped some water at him; he rolled off his back and retaliated.

* * *

By the time they trudged back to the Nakamuras' spot, Yuri's dad was returning from the refreshment stand. On his arm was an orange cooler filled with sodas and ice pops. Yuri's eyes lit up.

"Ooh, raspberry—" She made a move to grab one of the ice pops.

Her dad sidestepped out of the way at the last second, feigning astonishment at her gall.

"No way, these are for us!" he scoffed. "We've been sitting here wasting away in the sun, absolutely _parched_ —"

"Well, _we_ might've ingested saltwater – that'd make us even thirstier!" Yuri successfully swiped the raspberry ice cream push-up from the cooler. "Your move."

Mr. Nakamura sighed mournfully. "Why did we raise her to be smart?" he asked, casting his wife a wistful glance.

She didn't look up from her book. "Something about 'passing along the Nakamura wisdom.'"

"By which I meant 'getting a successful career,' not wheedling me out of sweets."

"Pros and cons, Kaishou."

Ayato laughed, accepting the drink Yuri passed to him. They both sat down on the edge of their towels and people-watched while they dried off in the sun. Ten minutes in, Yuri was meticulously digging and burying her legs in sand. Ayato wished she could have torn her gaze away from the sand in time to see this one big, dark, grizzly bearded guy getting mercilessly chased by a tiny redheaded woman. He had a raspy laugh that made Yuri finally look up, but she only caught the back of his head and a bunch of sand at her feet that the couple had kicked up behind them.

"The girl kind of reminded me of you, Yuri," Mrs. Nakamura said absently.

A harrumph from her husband. "Nah, I think our daughter can get guys her own age."

Ayato peered over his shoulder at the man in time to catch a wink. But before he could protest properly, Mrs. Nakamura broke in.

"What do you mean by that? How old did you think he was?"

"Come on, Ehana. Didn't you get a good look at him? I'd say at _least_ late-thirties!"

"You're going by the beard! He had youthful eyes. The oldest I'll give you is mid-twenties."

"Youthful eyes? You were gazing into his youthful eyes?"

Their voices started to rise enough to make Ayato's heart skip a beat. He side-eyed Yuri nervously, but she was… grinning? Actually shaking her head and laughing to herself. Continuing to make a sand dune out of her lap, completely nonplussed.

When she caught him staring, she blinked twice, then understanding smoothed her features.

"They're playing," she mouthed.

Playing. He took another look; her dad was nudging her mother in the side and jeering at her. Mrs. Nakamura rolled her eyes and flicked him in the forehead.

Interesting. Those two traveled together a lot for business. If they behaved like this while stuck in close quarters and still put up with each other, there was no breaking them up. He guessed it wasn't a big deal for them.

They were… cute together. Even behind the scenes.

For the next half hour, Ayato and Yuri continued to burrow in sand and people-watch while draining Mr. Nakamura's snack supply. Yuri even kindly requested her parents' assistance in keeping their eyes out for Kurimu, Ayato's secret crush. However, Mr. Nakamura refused because then Kurimu's family would get the free stuff and he didn't want to "help the competition" (Ayato was liking Yuri's father more and more).

"You always think in money," Yuri had complained. "Can't you help your own daughter terrorize a boy? It's your fatherly duty!"

"Not until you get a boyfriend," said her father, and mussed her hair with sandy fingers.

Yuri briefly returned to the ocean to wash the sand off of her legs and out of her hair, with Ayato following to lie down on the bank and let the tides drift up to him. A few gem-like shells and pebbles caught Yuri's eye and they took a few minutes to dig up some more, but it wasn't long afterwards that her parents checked the time as the two were dropping off their loot.

"It's getting a little late," said Mrs. Nakamura, putting her book away in her bag. "We'll have to head home soon if we want enough time to cook your birthday dinner."

Mr. Nakamura clapped Ayato on the shoulder. Unlike Kimito, his touch was more hearty than heavy. "Naoi, we'd love to have you join us."

Yuri and Ayato shared a wistful look.

"Sure," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but you'll have to okay it with my father. He's… a hard sell."

Yuri's dad flashed him a terribly businessman-like grin. "Challenge accepted."

Ayato wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or terrified.

They hauled their stuff back to the car, and Ayato and Yuri dried off and changed in a couple of stalls near the parking lot. After they loaded back up, Mr. Nakamura excused himself from the car to make a phone call. Every ten seconds, Yuri and Ayato peeked out the window to inspect his progress. The man alternated between pacing and leaning against the car or a pole. It had already been two minutes, but for Ayato it felt like thirty.

"He's smiling." Ayato turned to Yuri, furrowing his forehead. "That's a good sign, right?"

"Professional smile," Mrs. Nakamura said from the passenger seat. "People can't see you through the phone, but they can hear goodwill and cheer. It's emotionally contagious."

"I see…"

Goodwill and cheer? Kimito built up an immunity to that years ago.

Another full minute later, Mr. Nakamura ended the call and slid into the driver's seat. He was laughing and shaking his head.

"I think that's the first time I felt like the salesman with that man," he said, starting the engine. "But Ayato, I guess you're coming home with us."

Ayato's eyes widened. "He said it was okay?"

"Couldn't get into the business world without learning my own persuasion tactics."

Yuri shrieked in triumph and lunged around the front seat's headrest to give him a hug. Her dad made dramatic gasping and choking sounds, flailing and rasping for air.

"Kaishou, please drive," Mrs. Nakamura said, hiding a smile.

When Yuri let go, Mr. Nakamura rubbed his throat and hyperventilated for good measure, then cut himself off abruptly. "Okay, let's go."

The beach slowly disappeared behind them.

* * *

Ayato had never been inside the Nakamuras' house before.

On the outside, sure, it had a mansion feel to it. Beautiful trees and a garden surrounding it, elegant glass front door, window seats, and a fenced back patio. On the inside, there weren't grand ballrooms or intricate twisting staircases or anything like that. But it was well-furnished, with paintings and figurines and a TV the size of a small child. One locked glass case in the hallway had multiple shelves of cats, flowers, birds, and more, all made of ceramic, crystal, or colored glass.

Mrs. Nakamura caught him admiring it.

"We used to keep it unlocked," she said, lightly tracing the wooden frame, "but twelve-year-old Yuri had butter-fingers."

Yuri frowned guiltily. "It was a lily, I couldn't help it. It was my favorite."

"Until a piece of its glass petals got lodged in your foot." Mrs. Nakamura laughed. "I'll never forget your phone call that day. The screaming in the background, and you, completely calm, asking, 'Mom? Where's the gauze?'"

"It's like they'd never seen their big sister bleed before."

Ayato wasn't always sure what he believed in regards to the paranormal. But, just now, a certain energy cooled in the house like a plunging temperature. It was as if two ghosts had entered the room, and from the looks on their faces, Yuri and her mom knew they were the ones who let them in.

"That sounds like Yuri," he noted aloud. "Five years later, blood gushing down her palm, and she says, 'Oh, it's just a cut.' Some things never change."

The color returned to Mrs. Nakamura's cheeks.

"I guess not." With a faint smile, she took Yuri's chin in her hand and gave a playful squeeze. "And anyway, I've still got _my_ favorite lily."

Yuri blushed, quickly ducking out of her grip.

"Mom," she mumbled sheepishly.

Mrs. Nakamura mussed her hair in passing and disappeared into the kitchen. Once she was satisfied by the sound of amiable chatting and distracted cabinet scrounging, Yuri led Ayato by the arm into the TV room.

"Thanks for cutting in, by the way," she said, plopping down on the couch. "I thought she was going to bum out for a second there."

"My mom's like that too," Ayato admitted, joining her. Yuri bit back laughter as he misjudged the softness and almost sunk into the cushions. "Have you ever heard her hesitate before she says my name? She was about to say Hayato's."

Somehow, he didn't feel as embarrassed as he thought he would, confessing that to her. Not even when her eyes widened with a sudden epiphany.

"That's…"

She got up abruptly and went straight to a bookshelf. Kneeling down, she opened a cabinet underneath the shelves. Once she found what she was looking for, she returned to the couch with a photo in hand.

It was a family photo, from maybe three or four years back. Yuri was leaning on her dad's armchair, while Mrs. Nakamura had a little black-haired boy's head resting in her lap. The boy's feet were propped up on the lap of his older sister. If Ayato hadn't already spotted her, he might've guessed that this girl was a younger Yuri. She had the same wine-colored hair, grown much longer like their mother, and unmistakably green eyes. Only the face shape was different – narrower, like her dad's.

"When she looks at me, she probably sees the teenager Ajisai might've been." Yuri tugged a little at the ends of her hair. "I don't think I'll ever grow it out."

Ayato stared hard at Yuri, trying to picture her with waist-length hair. Somehow his creative wells were coming up short.

Catching his stare, she laughed it off.

"But still, you're an identical twin." Her thumb glossed over the photo in thought. "When she looks at you, she sees—"

"—a ghost," they said at the same time.

"Exactly."

Neither of them was sure why this made them chuckle. But at least it lightened the mood. Yuri put away the picture, and while she was up, she turned on the TV. Her lingering near the TV case drew his attention to a couple of shelves stacked airtight with DVDs, and he eyed them greedily. While Kimito had once allowed his sons TV time, the one they had was outdated and bulky with a significantly smaller screen. It was used for cartoons, news, and weather, and Kimito had stopped buying movies after Hayato died. His collection was about a third as big as Yuri's.

While Yuri channel-surfed, Ayato took a quick scan of their surroundings. "Hey, where's your dad?"

"Probably in the kitchen with Mom."

Ayato blinked. "He cooks?"

"They cook. Together." Yuri said, eyeing the channel info on a crime show episode. "One of their favorite things to do as a couple. Something to keep her busy and him peaceful at the same time."

"How do you live like this…?" Ayato muttered, making Yuri snort into her fist.

He and Yuri got sucked into the crime show episode for half an hour, winding up in twisted lounging positions as they bounced guesses back and forth on who they thought was the actual murderer (Yuri blamed the neighbor, but Ayato had his suspicions about the aunt). Then the house started to smell like chicken, sauces, and chocolate, which lured them into the kitchen.

Sitting at the Nakamuras' table under a vibrant purple and green "Happy Birthday" banner, Ayato found it hard to remember the handful of days he'd spent without Yuri this summer. All he could focus on was green tea, oyakodon, deep fried chicken, and Yuri doing her best to balance chatting with her parents about school and indulging in the chocolate raspberry cake on her plate.

Luckily, he managed to steal her parents' attention, and they started asking him about school and work. She spoke up a few times only to masterfully steer the conversation away from Kimito, which he was grateful for.

"Alright, Yuri, we get it," Mrs. Nakamura said good-naturedly. "You're a fan of this Naoi and not the other."

"He's much easier to get along with, anyway." Mr. Nakamura poured him a refill of tea, and winked. "Don't tell your old man this, but when you take over the family business, we'll start browsing twice as often."

Although a little embarrassed by the sentiment, the thought made him grin. And that grin stayed with him even through the present-giving part of the night. Her parents showered her with pretty things: headbands and hair ties, floral-covered journals and school planners, thigh high socks and shirts and skirts. A decorative lily-covered lavender container filled with money.

They were nice, affectionate tokens. He just felt regretful that she wouldn't end the night reveling in her loot while sipping contentedly from a homemade coffee mug.

He managed to get in another movie's worth of time with the Nakamuras (it was Yuri's favorite disaster movie, so she'd insisted) before Mr. Nakamura admitted it was the time he'd agreed to return Ayato home. He offered to drive him there since it was quicker, but Yuri wore him down until he agreed to let her walk him back. He only accepted on the grounds that it would still be light out by the time she got back – though Yuri pulled the "I'm seventeen now" card a number of times.

"It was nice really getting to know you today, Naoi," said Mr. Nakamura as he and his wife saw the two to the door.

Mrs. Nakamura nodded her accord. "I'm surprised this doesn't happen more often."

Ayato and Yuri exchanged glances. He doubted the Nakamuras truly understood their incompatibility with Kimito's parenting style.

"Kimito likes to keep me busy," he replied. That was probably the safest way to explain it without fear of maligning.

Yuri decided to jump in for him then.

"Work is nonstop with Naoi's dad, even in summer," she added. And then, decidedly more crisp: "You know how that is."

Ayato struggled to keep a straight face, even as the Nakamuras' eyebrows lifted considerably. Their parental radar had probably gone off, but they weren't sure if they'd just been sassed.

Noting her error, Yuri cleared her throat and tried on a more humble demeanor. Hands clasped innocently in front of her, she looked at her shoes and spoke in a quieter voice, "Sadly Ayato and I don't get to see each other as much as I'd like."

He couldn't help but sneak a glance her way. Going for the sympathy approach? Damn, she was good.

Her parents met each other's eyes and seemed to have a telepathic conversation. After a moment, they both succumbed to empathetic smiles.

"I think that's a shame," said Mrs. Nakamura, while she was restlessly tying her hair up in a bun. "Maybe we can work something out."

"Maybe," Mr. Nakamura agreed with a sly wink.

They said their goodbyes, and Ayato and Yuri trotted down to the sidewalk. Intrigue had embedded itself in Yuri's features and lasted all the way to the end of the block. Ayato wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"You think your parents are going to try to meddle?" he asked, after he couldn't take the contemplative silence any longer.

Yuri laughed, almost wickedly. "Ooohh, big time." She grabbed his arm and shook it a little excitement. "Did you see my mom tie her hair up? She has a lot of compulsive habits, but that one translates as 'I mean business.' Or she has an idea. Or both."

He couldn't deny that the way Yuri tented her fingers was a little stirring, but now his stomach was doing a few gymnastic moves.

"And…" He narrowed his eyes at her. "And your dad's persuasion skills worked on Kimito once. But do you really think he'll be able to do it again?"

Yuri smiled.

"We'll see," she said.

A bead of sweat trickled from Ayato's forehead. He knew that tone all too well. Although she'd promised to be careful back in June, once she got something stuck in her brain it would take dark magic to dig it out. And while he found that determination more fascinating as he got to know her, the perceived invincibility was still terrifying. He had no idea what would happen to her – and even him by association – if one day she stumbled from that high.

Maybe he'd just have to trust her not to stumble.

When it came to the point of the trail near his house where she had to turn back, he paused and pulled her in for a hug.

"Happy birthday again." They parted, but he let his hand linger on her shoulder. "I'll see you… when I see you."

Her eyes twinkled with something sharp and familiar, and a small grin to match.

"Yes. You will," she said, sounding particularly cheeky. On that note, she turned in the opposite direction and walked off with a dismissive wave.

It took him all the way up to the workshop to realize where he recognized that twinkle. Her father's game face.

" _Challenge accepted."_

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _You act like you have all the time in the world."_

" _I would have killed to see that."_

" _Let's deal with your indecisiveness."_

" _That is such a boy answer!"_

" _It's good practice."_

" _You're right on time."_

" _Ready to take over Akuma tomorrow?"_

[Chapter 16]: **Turn of the Tide.**


	16. Turn of the Tide

**A/N: Sorry for being over an hour late! I thought I'd be home before six... Still working on health, and as such I've been kind of stuck on Chapter 22, but it's March so maybe the spring will bring good things. Also, I haven't looked this chapter over, but I'm not seeing any red squigglies... so let me know if there are any mix-ups.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 16]: Turn of the Tide_

* * *

The rest of the week, courtesy of Kimito, was specifically dedicated to making up for his vacation day. And Ayato honestly did not give a damn.

Kimito could work him as hard as he pleased. What got Ayato through the day with a carefully concealed smile on his face was the knowledge that he got the dose of ocean his old man sorely needed in his life.

Even if his father thought he didn't need a good day at the beach (the fool didn't know what he was missing), Ayato quietly savored the role of the favored Naoi. After all, an important part of good business was establishing goodwill with the customers. And Ayato had just gotten a lot further with the Nakamuras in one day than Kimito ever managed in the last ten years.

God, it took all his sense of self-preservation not to shoot slimy glares of victory over his shoulder every time he left the back room.

Of course, Pampered Ayato died down after a couple of days, finally wrestled into submission by Sensible Ayato. The version that, although still floating from an ocean high, remained productive and was willing to resign himself to the fact that there was absolutely no way in any dimension or lifetime Kimito would consider changing his summer schedule.

"Ayato, we need to discuss some changes to your summer schedule."

He almost wished he'd been drinking something at the time, because that had warranted a spit-take. It would have been much less embarrassing than almost choking on air.

It was Friday afternoon, and he'd spent the morning cleaning clay residue out of the sink and recycling the scraps. He'd been just about to head out front to stock some of the shelves when Kimito's gruff announcement broke their silence.

Ayato paused at the doorway, willing his composure to remain cool. Then he chanced a look over his shoulder.

"What changes?"

Seated at his post, Kimito wet the clay and continued to shape the vase, pressing on its long, thin neck with his thumbs. His concentration never broke. The wheel spun rhythmically, as if keeping him under a subtle trance.

"Summer break. No more school crunching your schedule. You act like you have all the time in the world." Kimito sniffed, indignant, and slopped some more wetness on the neck with a sponge. "All the damn day to do your work around here. An extra few hours and you throw them away because you know you have them. It's the Summer Illusion; it's why you're less productive around this time of year."

Ayato narrowed his eyes. It smelled less like mildew in here and more like bullshit.

"As such," Kimito grunted, running a scraper against the top (Ayato unconsciously rubbed his own neck), "I figure you'll be more useful when put under a time crunch again. Starting next week, I'll be drawing up a schedule with, on days of my choosing, days that have anywhere from three to six less work hours. Do with them what you will."

Turning around more fully now, Ayato pressed his lips together to keep from going slack-jawed. His father was speaking calmly, but still… had he lost his mind?

"However, don't be stupid enough to throw them away. And you have to earn them." Kimito poked a sharp utensil into the neck, widening the vase's mouth. "I expect much more productivity from you under this schedule. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Ayato said, unable to fight a furrowed brow.

What the hell…? He'd been working his ass off these past few days, but Kimito denying his productivity was nothing new. If he wanted to get more out of him, why would he give him time _off_? When he could just as easily hover like he usually did and bark more orders as soon as he heard things die down? It was too irregular for him to—

Ayato stared a little harder. At the quirk in Kimito's jaw. At the tightness of his fingers. At the eggshell white in his face.

He wasn't calm. He was _furious._

It was all Ayato could do to keep from snickering.

Kimito glanced up from his station, eyes darkened and dull. His knuckles grew white around the sharp silver scraper curled in his fist, which Ayato was keenly aware could cut a throat.

"That's all," his father said coldly. "Get back to stocking shelves."

With a nod, Ayato slipped out into the hall. And worked the rest of the day in a daze.

It wouldn't fully hit him for another six hours.

* * *

"I would have killed to see that," Yuri said cheerfully from her perch upside down on her couch. "I mean, it sounds dangerous, but in a funny way."

"Yeah, it's weird to see him with a sharp object in his raised fist and still be about ready to crack up. Like laughing in the face of God."

"Your hubris is unfathomable."

Three days into his new schedule, Ayato had already memorized the walk to the Nakamura house and had christened it his sanctuary. The very moment Kimito confirmed his hours and let him loose, Ayato had ditched his work apron and walked straight out the door. For an instant, he'd wondered if Kimito knew where he was headed, but a part of him didn't care. The rest of the afternoon was his.

On the busiest store days, Ayato would work afternoons. The rest of the week, he would get up early in the morning and train in the studio, then help Kimito open up shop and carry things over or run errands. The hours would be absolutely packed, but once it hit mid-afternoon, the day was his until dinner. If he was late, he was shit out of luck food-wise but was still expected to train until midnight.

Ayato didn't mind that arrangement; the Nakamuras had already offered him dinner yesterday. Ayato had opted to feign sluggishness and hunger when he got home that night so Kimito wouldn't suspect he was getting spoiled.

Now, he and Yuri were hanging out in her TV room, talking over the television Yuri had left on the news for white noise. Kimito would've been outraged by the waste of electricity, but the Nakamuras weren't protesting too much. Mr. Nakamura was busy doing online work in his study room, and Mrs. Nakamura was pacing through the entire house while talking on the phone with… a client, he guessed. Ayato didn't really ask much about their careers. But now that Yuri's birthday month was over, apparently they had to kick back into gear.

"I still can't believe your dad convinced him," he said.

Yuri hummed into the pillow she'd dropped on her head for whatever reason. "You've been saying that."

"It's _Kimito_."

"My dad's charismatic. It's all part of the job."

"Hm." Ayato kicked his legs up on the arm rest, arms crossed contentedly over his chest. "Must be where you get it."

Yuri's head moved slightly, knocking the pillow off-kilter. "Get what?"

"Charisma." He eyed her thoughtfully. "Have you considered doing… whatever it is they do?"

Silence followed, and then a light scoff. "I don't think so."

Ayato raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I just…" Yuri frowned to herself, hugging the pillow to her chest. "I never want that kind of lifestyle."

"What lifestyle? Rich?"

Yuri threw the pillow at him; he caught it before it could hit him in the face. Not that it would've made much of an impact though. Cute little rich girl and her soft cushy pillows…

"Fine," he said calmly. But he was still curious. "What do you want to do, then?"

"I don't know that yet." Yuri kicked her feet restlessly in the air. She was staring up at the ceiling without really seeing. "Lead. Fight. Protect."

"Cop?"

"Eh…"

Ayato shifted on the couch, trying out Yuri's lounging position. "With your strong sense of justice, and my intelligence…" He paused, grinning when she stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine. But you're strategic and I'm good at deduction. We could be like those partners on crime shows."

Yuri laughed. "Does that mean you won't always be in the pottery business?"

The question, and the hint of seriousness in her tone, made him hesitate. From the look on her face, she could tell it'd been the wrong thing to ask.

After that hung over their heads for a second, he shook it off.

"I'm the one with a safety net," he reminded her, hoping she wouldn't think to point out wealth as her own. "For now, let's deal with you and your indecisiveness."

"Fine," said Yuri, waving a hand into the air dismissively. "No better time to brainstorm. All the blood's rushing to my head."

Sure enough, her face looked pinker than usual, the sight of which significantly cheered him up.

"Start off with listing things you like and know you're good at," he suggested.

"Hmm…" More air-kicking, something she'd never gotten away with in her school uniform skirt. "Cooking. Athletics." He quietly noted the pause as she mentally vaulted over the word gymnastics. "Charisma and persuasive speeches, apparently. And to go with that, writing. When I was younger, I used to like to write bedtime stories for…" Her voice trailed off.

He glanced over at her; there was a telltale glaze over her eyes that warned him she was about to vanish into her memories.

"Back when my brother was doing most of the pottery training, I preferred to draw." He raised his eyebrows mock-hopefully in her direction. "Maybe we could put our skills together and write manga."

That did the trick. Yuri snorted with laughter, raising her head slightly from the cushion to see if he was serious. "That is such a _boy_ answer!"

"Alright, alright." He stared back up at the ceiling. "World domination?"

"Now we're talking. Let's put that as my safety net."

The conversation that ensued mostly consisted of them figuring out a complex hypothetical situation in which Ayato could abandon the pottery business and join her in taking over the world. Yuri looked surprised at first, but intrigued, when he posited that his evil power would be hypnosis.

"What made you think of that?" she'd asked, rather tentatively, and he'd reminded her of the time he'd wanted to use that would-be assassin as a baseball bat. Yuri agreed that "weirdly, I can definitely see you as a hypnotist," which made him preen.

Although he noticed that Yuri was glad to detach herself from the career talk and watch TV instead, he couldn't help but still linger over it. In less than a year, they'd be starting their last year of high school and taking entrance exams. A year after that, they'd be graduating.

But then what?

He knew full well what was in store for him. As Kimito's heir to the pottery business, life after high school was never a mystery. Further education was something Kimito told him not to bother worrying about.

Yuri, on the other hand, was someone he couldn't see not going to college. Her parents could handle the finances, after all. Though with Yuri's grades they wouldn't even have to. Unlike him, she could have any future she wanted. With the entrance exams not that far away, it was better to find out sooner rather than later.

Why he was fixated on this, he couldn't say for sure.

It was just that sometimes she seemed… lost. He didn't want that for her.

After marathoning through a few episodes of a zombie show, Ayato had to turn down dinner with the Nakamuras. He told them jokingly that he didn't want to insult his mother, but really, he was a little paranoid Kimito wouldn't buy two days in a row of missing a significant meal.

Yuri fled upstairs for a minute, then met him outside to walk him home. Clipped to her waist was a small black walkie-talkie. The other one, she handed to him.

"Since you don't have a cell phone yet," she explained when he gave her a questioning look. She brightened, tapping the walkie on her side. "Which is great, because this way your dad doesn't need to know we have a means of communication, and he can't call you asking where the hell you are."

Ayato regarded the device for a moment, grazing each of the buttons. Volume, power, channel… It would be nice to let her know when the coast was clear, or when he was getting out of work.

"Do they work?" he asked, and subsequently frowned to himself. Stupid question. He wasn't sure why it had come to mind.

Yuri scoffed. "What do you mean? Of course they work!" But she faltered then, unclipping the walkie from her pants and squinting down at the screen. She clicked hers on and so did he. "Testing, testing." Her voice came loud and clear through his speaker. Satisfied, she gave him a triumphant smile. "Told you."

"Just a second." He pressed his button to talk. "Testing?"

It didn't come out on her end. He shot her a smarmy grin, feeling validated. "Told _you_."

"Damn!" She snatched it out of his hands and fiddled with it, making her adjustments. Then she tossed it back to him, eyebrow raised. "How'd you know?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Weird dream."

Yuri re-clipped the walkie to her side and fake glared at him. "Stop having dirty dreams about me!"

"What would we be doing with walkie talkies?" he protested.

For a moment, Yuri looked considering. She eyed the device, a grin slowly spreading across her face, and gave him a very telling look, like "isn't it obvious?"

He pretended to have an epiphany as they started heading down the walkway.

"That's right," Ayato said, nodding seriously. "So in my dream, _you_ were trying to talk dirty to me, but my walkie talkie didn't work."

"There go my Friday night plans," Yuri teased.

He shook his head with a laugh and clipped his walkie to his pants. Hmm, who was the one fantasizing now? Although at this point they'd strayed pretty far from the truth. Honestly, it was just another dream he'd had from that strange school a couple of days ago. A vague chunk of it, at least. He only remembered flashes of lightning and a crowd of students, featuring a drenched Yuri getting frustrated with a walkie talkie she was trying to operate in the rain ("—I'll assume you can hear me—").

She'd also been somewhat disheveled, but that was something he'd leave out if she asked for details. (He'd rather she didn't, because before he woke up in the middle of the night, he thought he'd heard gunshots. Not something he wanted to revisit.)

"It's kind of nice," Ayato said reflectively, while they were trekking through the woods on the walk home, "having someone as flirty as you for a friend."

Yuri side-eyed him, though she spared a warm grin. "Is that so?"

"Hm. It's good practice," he confirmed. "For when I successfully woo Kurimu."

"You know, I think she actually lives around here," Yuri warned him.

He elbowed her in the side, feigning dismay. "Don't start looking around! I didn't bring my love letters."

Yuri laughed gleefully, stepping away from him onto the opposite side of the trail. She gestured through the trees, where he could make out the faint outline of a modest but attractive neighborhood in the distance.

"Midori Hill," she said, "if you're interested."

He rolled his eyes at her. Of course he wasn't interested, and that was one thing about classes starting up again that he wasn't looking forward to.

"But seriously," he continued with a smile, for once not minding that the workshop was gradually coming into sight, "your charisma has been rubbing off on me."

"You think so?" Yuri returned the grin, stretching her arms behind her neck. "That's good. I'm going to want your help ruling the world someday."

"I'm starting to think you're not joking," Ayato said.

"I never was."

Since it was close to dinner and Kimito might be keeping an eye out for him, Yuri left him before the trees broke for the clearing. He noted her parents would probably have dinner long waiting for her anyway, and Yuri made a dubious noise but patted his shoulder as she broke into a brisk trot in the opposite direction.

As soon as he stepped onto the engawa, the front door swung wide open to reveal—

"Ayato, you're right on time," his mother said, venturing a smile. She stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. "I just set the table."

He nodded curtly to her before heading to the kitchen. Though… a part of him was relieved she had been the first one to intercept him. Had she been watching for him from the window or something? No, Kimito probably wouldn't like that.

His father was sitting at the table when he walked in. Without looking up, he made a comment along the lines of "so, you decided to join us" that Ayato mainly ignored. Then his mother came up behind him and they had dinner. Kimito seemed particularly impatient for Ayato to finish, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as his plate was cleared. His "slacker time" was up, and there were kilns to be unloaded in the workshop.

The urgency was setting Ayato a little on edge. Since he got here, he hadn't even been given enough time to put away his—

He patted his sides like a damned drum-set, borderline freaking out. Nonplussed, Kimito stuck his head out of the workshop door while rapping his fingers on the wood.

"What is it," he said, unimpressed in advance with any possible reason he could give him for the delay.

Ayato swallowed hard, stepping into the workshop with a set jaw.

"Nothing. I thought I'd left money in my pocket."

"So?"

He mentally thanked himself for cutting the explanation short on the first go. Going by experience, when he fed one full lie to Kimito, the old man was sure to doubt it immediately. Too much explaining was suspicious. When he said something brief, it made it sound like the answer was obvious on its own. After that, if Kimito asked for follow-up, he'd already given himself enough time to come up with something smart.

"So I didn't think you'd want me to get clay all over the money _you_ gave me," Ayato said matter-of-factly.

Kimito glared at him for the sass, but he let it go and started setting up shop. The relief that he'd believed him was short-lived. As soon as Kimito turned around, Ayato allowed himself five seconds of silent panic.

How the hell could he have dropped the walkie talkie? So stupid! Where did he even…

He stifled a grudging sigh and got to work.

 _Figures…_

Kimito hadn't been bluffing last week about the state of his new schedule, so Ayato was pretty worn down by the time midnight rolled around. Not that he wasn't already used to it a few days in, it was just…

He trudged up the stairs, rubbing rhythmically at his temples. It was painfully laughable, as he reached out for his bedroom door. To picture, in the middle of the forest path, Yuri's voice emanating from a walkie talkie lying all alone on the dusty—

—bed?!

From the mirror near his closet, Ayato had the rare pleasure of seeing his eyes bug out of their sockets.

He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling in disbelief. His mom was usually fast asleep by the time he and Kimito turned in for the night, and Kimito would be pissed if he woke her up. Not out of consideration as a husband, just to throw a fit.

But… this!

He just stood there in the doorway for a minute, gawking at the device that rested gently on his pillow. There was no way! He hadn't… he hadn't even been up here since… unless…

Behind him, he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. He moved to block the view into his room, but then peeked inconspicuously over his shoulder. Just in time to see Kimito emerge at the top of the staircase and disappear into his room.

That wasn't likely either. Even if it was conceivable as a passive-aggressive message to him, Kimito couldn't have gotten his hands on it. This was the first time he'd been upstairs since Ayato got home. Besides that, he'd been nowhere near him before he lost it.

That left but one possibility. The only one with the heart to do it.

And he remembered the way she'd brushed past him, right before they sat down to dinner.

With one last fleeting glance over his shoulder at his parents' room, he shut the door behind him. He wandered over to his bedside, picked up the walkie talkie, and inspected it. Wisely, it had been turned off. He fixed that and turned down the volume to a reasonable level, then sat down on his mattress.

"Yuri? I hope you're still up."

Crackles and static, then a little interactive blip.

"Yeah, I remembered he sets you free around this time." Yuri's voice came through, clear enough to hear an audible grin. "Ready to take over Akuma tomorrow?"

Ayato kicked back against his pillows, smug smirk returning with vigor.

"Just call me God."

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Summer is passing way too quickly."_

" _I'm going to pass on some words of warning."_

" _Can we leave? Right now."_

" _Am I taking up your summer?"_

" _Can't swim on a full stomach."_

" _I'll keep her in line."_

" _You have your things you want to avoid, and I have mine."_

[Chapter 17]: **Take Flight.**


	17. Take Flight

**A/N: Back with the last summer update! I'm sorry this is delayed, FFN held me back for twelve whole hours! As such, I'm not going to do too much picky revision. I like this chapter. And yes, the title is a Lindsey Stirling reference. Listen while reading if you wish. :)**

* * *

 _[Chapter 17]: Take Flight_

* * *

"This is the first time I've said it in years," Ayato mused out loud, "but summer is passing way too quickly."

It was mid-August now, on one of the busy days, so he and Yuri had met in the morning at the fork in the forest trail. From there, they'd walked to the local swimming pool, and now they were sunbathing in plastic chairs like a couple of middle-aged parents – Yuri's words, not his.

Her own chair propped up in a semi-reclining position, Yuri was able to peer meaningfully through her sunglasses at him.

"You're telling me," she said. "But that's what happens when you spend a lot of it on the couch."

"You're the one who paraded her massive movie collection in front of me," he scoffed. He was still having tornado and dinosaur dreams. "Tease."

"Nerd."

"Wench."

"Couch hog."

"You have _two_!"

Yuri rolled her eyes so hard he saw the whites of them above the rim of her sunglasses. "To be fair, I liked recording your reactions. Still, you have to admit that this is much better."

He wouldn't argue with her on that. During his past summers, most time was spent indoors. Workshop, store, or at home watching limited channels. Although Yuri's TV sang a siren song of free movies and more channels than Kimito had years, Ayato liked soaking directly in the sun. It was energizing, and yet so easy to fall asleep to the caress of heat mixed with the smell of chlorine and sound of splashes.

Even on their afternoons together, when Yuri didn't want to go to the pool because it would be too busy, they'd take walks. Longer ones than just back and forth to each other's houses. Nowhere too crowded or anything, but it helped him get a better feel for Akuma. The town was bigger than he remembered. Still small, but there was more going on around here. The arcade he used to visit when he was a kid had been remodeled and added onto in the last, what… seven to ten years?

But mornings, if he and Yuri were feeling outdoorsy, were prime opportunities for pool time. Plenty of kids were at school taking supplementary classes, and adults were at their jobs, so the pool wouldn't be packed until long after he returned to work. Yuri liked it that way – more pool chairs at optimal locations.

"I would've saved the movie marathons for the fall," Ayato mused, feeling pleasantly cooked under the sun, "but you know… that he'll change my schedule back, as soon as this is over."

"That's true." Yuri breathed in deeply, like a sleepy sigh. She side-eyed him. "And it's fine. Most of them are even better when you're watching with someone who's seeing it for the first time."

"All the same, I think we should make the most of these last few days." When Yuri hummed her assent, Ayato added, "That means actually going into the pool."

Yuri hugged her floral green towel, looking affronted. "We did! This is me drying off!"

"But the ratio of swimming to tanning—"

She whined at him until he gave up that argument. Then she adjusted her sunglasses and made a show of settling herself deeper into the seat.

Ayato scoffed and sat up straighter, gazing out over the water. Its unnatural blueness looked inviting. Usually, he didn't want to swim without Yuri as a social buffer, but now that he thought about it, this seemed a bit limiting.

He was a Naoi after all. From his experience, that was all the buffer in the world.

"Well, I'm going in," he decided, getting to his feet.

Yuri immediately grabbed for her music player. "Try not to drown, then," she said cheerfully while putting in her earbuds. "I won't be able to save you."

Rolling his eyes, he wandered over to a less occupied section and lowered himself into the pool. That was one more positive thing he'd learned from his father – if you acted like you owned or even _ruled_ something, people wouldn't bother you.

After baking under the sun for half an hour, this was just what he needed. The sensation of chlorine and water jets relaxed him as he floated close to the walls, but still… every so often, he couldn't help sneaking glances in Yuri's direction.

And, well, it wasn't like _that,_ but he wasn't the only one. He'd noticed that while sitting next to her today. Actually, he'd noticed it on quite a few pool days. It was mostly guys who were doing the staring – blatantly checking her out, which was initially what had irritated him. He doubted it was heat stroke that was making them red-faced with their tongues hanging out like _dogs_.

But then he started to get the feeling that there was more to it than random guys ogling her body. There were some people, many of them girls, who would do a double-take in his and Yuri's direction. They'd get this look of startled recognition on their faces, confusion but not quite gawking. They'd spare a moment to scrutinize.

Some would hesitate, open their mouths as if to say something, maybe turn to the person they'd come with and say something. Some would look like they wanted to walk over. But they didn't. They'd keep walking. They might get as far as a couple steps, but they'd change their mind, or someone else would say something, and they'd keep walking.

And Ayato was starting to wonder if he might be the problem.

" _Don't go over there!"_

" _Can't you see who she's sitting with?"_

He could just hear them saying something like that. It was partially the reason he'd made the decision to go in the pool without her. With him being who he was, sharing DNA with the biggest bastard in Akuma… Though some might guess, they didn't know what went on behind closed doors. But the rumors were there, the bad vibes, and they were contagious. Maybe he'd passed them onto Yuri.

He hated to think that maybe, his presence was keeping people away from her. Socially dragging her down into a pit.

From the pool, he snuck more glances now and then. Nobody approached Yuri while he was gone, but that could have been because she was listening to music. He was still suspicious, but he calmed down. He let himself swim.

Some time had passed and his lazy drifting had carried him to the other end of the pool, nearest to one of the entrances. Ayato was braced against the wall, eyes barely open, when a familiar voice registered in his brain. His head snapped in the direction of the voice, dearly hoping for anyone other than the troublesome trio.

To his relief, it was a trio but it wasn't troublesome. Among the trio was a classmate with a head of purple hair.

"Hey, Masuda," he said, and nearly followed up with a look of bewilderment meant for himself. Maybe he had it all wrong – instead, Yuri was slowly but surely turning him into an unrecognizable extrovert.

Masuda flicked a glance towards the pool at him, slowing slightly.

"Hello, Naoi," he returned, but his greeting was swallowed up at the end – lost among his one friend's excited chants ("Swimmingswimmingswimmingswimming! Swimming!").

They both eyed the kid with mutual raised brows, while Masuda's other friend stopped and face-palmed. The latter was the tallest of the three, a big lime-haired guy with bulky headphones around his neck. He looked kind of dense, but reasonably more mature than the enthusiastic one, who was shortest and buzzing with energy.

Masuda walked to the edge of the pool and bent down as if to whisper something conspiratorially.

"Since I respect you as a person, I'm going to pass on some words of warning." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Short Kid. "Get out of the pool before _Hachihama_ goes _in_."

Ayato did a double-take at the kid, who it turned out might just be a very young-looking teen with a childlike sugar rush. Hachihama was either headed toward some chairs or the vending machines.

"Good idea," he replied.

Masuda nodded and rejoined Headphones Guy, yelling something at their third friend as they hurried after him.

He'd had his fill of swimming anyway, so he took the stairs out of the pool and walked briskly back to rejoin Yuri, letting the wind air-dry his skin. She still had her sunglasses on and her earbuds in. He flicked water from his hands onto her stomach purely for the joy of being a pest.

Yuri squeaked in dismay and swatted at his legs as he walked by, prompting his satisfied smile. Ah yes, there was the joy of that too.

Luckily she was over it by the time she took her earbuds out and put away her music player. "Have fun?"

"So much, I tried to bring the fun back to you." Sitting down at his chair, he grinned into his towel as he started to dry off.

"Hmm, how considerate." Yuri picked up her own towel and held it protectively to her stomach like a blanket.

"Still…" Ayato scanned the swimming pool vicinity carefully. "Not as much fun as that one guy…"

"What guy—"

"CANNON- _ **BAAAAAAALLLLLLL!**_ " Hachihama screamed, jumping into the deep end.

The impact was catastrophic.

Well, fine. Maybe it wasn't doomsday in Akuma, setting off a tsunami wave that swallowed the entire town. But a notable amount of water crashed against the edges. It was enough to get a little bit of a hazy soda pop spray in their direction.

Yuri, who had sat up to hear where the shout was coming from, had gotten droplets on her lenses. Now she was finally lowering her sunglasses in disbelief.

"Damn!" she said, watching Hachihama kick to the surface. "Still hard to believe such a little guy could make such a big splash."

Ayato couldn't help but agree, as the guy emitted a shrill yell of triumph and raced to the edge where a drenched Masuda and Headphones Guy were waiting for him with impatient looks on their faces. But then, he had a strong feeling that was big sister talk right there. The way her voice held cool, encouraging pride? She might've been thinking of her little brother just now. Toweling his arms, he turned to check if a memory was bothering her.

At first she looked okay. Busily wiping droplets off her sunglasses so she could put them back on.

But then she glanced back up, towards the pool. A little farther out. And the strangest expression took over her face. A flash of recognition in her eyes followed by panic, coupled with the distance he recognized as her "sibling memories" gaze. Frozen in place but lightyears away. She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard.

"I want to leave," Yuri said, pulling on her shirt. Panic had thawed into desperation. "Can we leave? Right now."

"What?" He tried to follow where her eyes had been, all the way to the entrance gate. He only got a glimpse of long auburn hair before he felt himself being tugged by the arm. "Hey! I haven't even finished drying off—!"

* * *

A minute or so later, Ayato and Yuri were out of the pool area and were strolling the sidewalk.

Well, Yuri was strolling. Ayato had just finished hopping into his other shoe. Only partially air-dried, his trunks and shirt were still trying to stick to his skin. At least Yuri had been thoughtful to grab both her things and his during their daring escape.

Or, whatever the hell that was.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" he asked, uncomfortably adjusting his shirt. He wasn't going to bother with the trunks.

Yuri peered back at him, towel casually thrown over her shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me what your mom was supposed to hide for you?" she returned, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated. The mug wasn't a huge sore spot anymore, he supposed. But he'd made such a big deal over it back then, it would be kind of embarrassing to confess the truth now. Too much buildup for a homemade birthday present.

"I see. So it's somehow related to that deal we made," Ayato observed.

Yuri nodded. "Mm-hm. No questions asked."

But what had she wanted him not to ask about on her side? Something about…

"I see you trying to connect the dots," Yuri warned, side-eyeing him. "You know, I can try to look deeper into your thing too."

Laughing, Ayato held up his hands in surrender. "Fine! But mine's not even a big deal."

"You're just making me more curious!" she singsonged.

They dropped it after that. Sometimes it was good to be on a "no questions asked" basis with someone. If Yuri didn't want to think about it, he'd cut her a break for the time being. So he and Yuri left the pool far behind them, agreeing on the park as their next destination.

Lightly dipping tree branches passed overhead. Compared to sunscreen and shrieking kids, shade and a light breeze gave this part of town a charm all its own. More room in his head for thoughts to breathe. There was no one else but him, Yuri, and a few chattering birds.

"Can I ask you something?" Ayato eyed her thoughtfully after a long-held silence.

She coaxed him on with an eyebrow flick. "Hmm?"

"Am I… taking up your summer?" He held his composure carefully, but couldn't help a nervous head scratch. "Hogging you from your other friends, I mean."

"Of course not," Yuri replied almost immediately, confusion vanishing from her eyes. "We spend maybe an average of five hours a day together, which is about as much time I'd expect to spend with my best friend."

Ayato slowed significantly, blinking at her.

Turning so her gaze found his, she offered him a vague half-smile. "Don't worry about it, alright?"

Encouraged, he fell back into step beside her. The official title of "best friend" pretty much obliterated every other thought in his head – so yeah, they were good.

He just hoped the metaphorical tail wag wasn't too obvious.

The park was in sight now, and they had a couple of hours to kill before he'd have to recalibrate into work mode. Until then, he liked the feel of the world right now. Summer felt more like it belonged to him. With most people at work, or the beach, or the pool, the roads and sidewalks were his and Yuri's to roam as they pleased. Also, he'd developed a taste for pool leisure time (that is, swimming outside of school) and he intended to get more of it.

When idiots weren't making tidal waves, of course. For now, he was content with laying claim to drier pastures.

He and Yuri were idly discussing when and where to switch out of their swimsuits, when he heard voices that weren't their own. His wandering eyes returned to the park entrance, just in time to catch movement. And then he recognized the people walking straight in their direction.

Swearing under his breath, Ayato acted quickly but blindly. He grasped Yuri by the shoulders and leapt off the sidewalk, ducking between the trees. His urgent steering stopped when her back met the hedged metal fence with a sudden jingle.

"What the—" Yuri started, but he made a few flustered shushing gestures. She pursed her lips and tried to peek over his shoulder.

The smaller trees near the sidewalk shielded them from view, while the ones above their head kept them in shade. Besides that, Hejjiguchi was whistling with his eyes closed, walking ahead of Ami and Kurimu. He had a faster natural pace than the two girls, but that didn't deter them. Least of all Ami, who looked determined to keep up at ear range.

"You're so stubborn!" she groaned, looking severely put out. "Buying a chili cheese dog and eating it right in front of us just so you don't have to swim?"

Hejjiguchi stopped whistling and put a hand to his heart in deep offense.

"I'll have you know it meant more to me than that!" he said impassionedly. "But you know the rules. Can't swim on a full stomach."

"That's what I told you when you bought it!" Ami slapped a hand to her forehead. Kurimu was absolutely losing it behind her. "When you said, 'can't swim on an empty stomach' and I tried to explain to you very specifically why _that was not the case!_ "

"Whoops?"

Ami put her hands on her hips. She had an air for drama, that one. "Well, when that hour's up? Just know that one way or another, I _will_ get you into that pool, Souma Hejjiguchi."

"Ami, he said he just wants to tan!"

"Thank you, Kurimu." There was a touch of amusement in his voice as well as gratitude. "I'm counting on you to be my bodyguard, alright? Ami's dangerous today."

Kurimu linked her arm with Ami's. "I'll keep her in line."

Their voices faded as they traveled farther down the road, ending with Ami's indignant cries of helping friends overcome fears. Although Ayato had been intrigued enough to eavesdrop, he sighed in relief and turned to face Yuri. She was staring at him curiously, back still pressed against the fence. It occurred to him that he'd left very little space between them, and that maybe he'd been a bit rough in his haste.

"Sorry I pushed you." He withdrew a step, rubbing his neck. "I was just—"

"You didn't want your girlfriend to see you," Yuri said cheekily.

"Exac—" He glared at her. "Hey!"

Yuri laughed, patting him on the shoulder as she returned to the sidewalk. "Oh, come on. They sounded like they were having such a good time together. Do you really think they would have stopped to bug you?"

Ayato considered her words for a moment, but he was steadfast.

"Ami would've," he insisted. "Kurimu was siding with Hejjiguchi instead of her, so she would've pointed me out as a distraction. Or Hejjiguchi would've used me as a sacrificial lamb to get Ami off his back."

"Oh, come on." They rounded the corner and started their trek through the park. "Hejjiguchi's a bigger person than that, isn't he?"

Ayato gave her a meaningful look. She met his eyes contemplatively. Then they both broke into laughter.

"Still. Would you really jump into the ocean to escape them?"

He grunted something inaudible. He wasn't _scared_ of them, if that was what Yuri was implying. That was ridiculous, and irrational. Maybe he'd push Hejjiguchi in, but… Shaking the thought off, he side-eyed Yuri for a second. There was a distinct flashback playing in his head of the pool and their speedy getaway just fifteen minutes before.

"You have your things you want to avoid, and I have mine." He turned his gaze back down the path, drinking in the park's peace. "Let's just leave it at that."

Yuri closed her eyes, regarding his words. Then she looked to him and gave a small nod. "Fair enough."

Silently, Ayato took a moment to revel in his victory with a grin. If all went well, he could get through another couple of weeks free of any more mentions or close calls with the troublesome trio. For the time being, he'd start by making the park his own.

"But really," said Yuri, as they headed toward a food vendor. "It's been half a summer vacation, and they've had better things to do since then."

"You might have a point there," he said, rubbing his chin.

Yuri hummed with certainty, holding her head high as she led the way to the grilled corn stand.

"Mark my words. By September they'll have forgotten all about it."

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _All your suitors have to go through it."_

" _Seriously, what is she playing at?"_

" _Steer into the skid!"_

" _I must have_ just _missed you."_

" _I'm not sure how she'd feel about that."_

" _Fresh term, fresh start, am I right?"_

" _I suppose I can keep this going a little bit longer."_

[Chapter 18]: **Test the Waters.**


	18. Test the Waters

**A/N: Hey guys. Feeling really bad today... delirious and maybe a little dehydrated. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Zain, I hope I'm well enough to DM tonight or tomorrow.**

* * *

 _[Chapter 18]: Test the Waters_

* * *

"Well! If it isn't the future Mr. Kurimu Aoki!"

Ayato called on all his willpower not to slam his head on his desk. He was going to have to have a talk with Yuri about sharpening up her oh-so-keen intuition. As it was, Kimito had already put his school-time work schedule back into place, and he was still recalibrating his brain after spoiling himself rotten all summer, so he had very little energy for whatever Hejjiguchi had in store. Maybe he should have come to class closer to the bell.

Instead, he stared up at him somewhat blearily. "You're oddly cheerful on the first day back to school."

"It must be because I missed your shining face," Hejjiguchi said with a grin.

Behind Hejjiguchi, Kurimu herself walked through the classroom door. He caught her eye as she came up behind Hejjiguchi with an armful of books.

"Kurimu, he flirted with me just now," Ayato said dryly. "What do you think of this?"

Hejjiguchi's eyes grew a fraction wider, as if he'd just said there was a ghost hovering over his shoulder. Ayato could've sworn there was a bead of sweat on his brow, before he let the grin return to his face and turned to face his friend.

"Hejjiguchi, there's goofing around and then there's being rude," Kurimu said firmly, placing her books on her desk. "I told you it's not right to behave like that, especially—"

"Especially on the first day back. I know, I know." Hejjiguchi sat down behind her, pushing his chair back so he could rest his legs on the desk without getting his shoes too close to her hair. "It's an endurance test, you know. All your suitors have to go through it."

Kurimu, who had been in the middle of offering Ayato an apologetic smile, snapped her head toward Hejjiguchi with flushed cheeks. "M-my _suitors_?!"

"What—"

"Do you have to be so embarrassing about it?" Kurimu squeaked, stamping her foot.

Hejjiguchi folded his arms behind his head. "It's one of the endurance tests."

From some strange stroke of luck, the teacher joined the classroom moments after Ami did. Ami's hair was curled, and she looked purposely dolled up to go with her tan, but she didn't have enough time to pause by Ayato's desk and jingle her gold bracelets at him while she asked how much he'd missed the three of them. She eyed him, certainly, but strode on past him to join Hejjiguchi and Kurimu with a bright smile.

When Ayato turned fully to the front, he caught Masuda staring at him with a raised brow.

"You lucked out," he mouthed.

Ayato lifted his eyebrows right back at him. The guy was lucky to be seated at a safe distance from the whole mess, and could tune it out easily. The sympathy was appreciated.

"For now," he mouthed back.

Summer had been generous to him, but fate wasn't kind enough to let this respite last long.

* * *

Yuri had quite the inappropriate giggle fit when he gave her an update at lunch. As in, she couldn't even eat or drink for five whole minutes because she was snickering evilly and smiling too much.

"Alright, so I was wrong," she said, grinning into her drink. "I gave them more credit than they deserved."

They'd chosen their outdoors spot today, since it gave them a lingering feeling of summer break. Besides the warm sun and smell of trees, it had the pleasant addition of being far away from certain idiots. During the studying weeks those three had eaten in the classroom, but otherwise he pegged them as rooftop lurkers.

He could just imagine Hejjiguchi resting on the edge, letting his foot dangle in the air until he thoughtlessly dropped his shoe on some poor unsuspecting student. Still, he rather liked the mental image of Hejjiguchi running and hopping to retrieve his shoe.

"Also, I got a good look at Ami today," Yuri continued. "Looking dressed to impress."

"I saw that too." Ayato leaned his head back against a tree trunk. "Seriously, what is she playing at?"

"I'd like to revisit the 'Ami secretly likes you' theory."

"But that makes no sense! Why would she push her best friend at me if that were true?"

Yuri brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, which drew Ayato's interest. When Yuri did something like that, she was usually about to divulge a great mysterious truth about women.

"Because," she said firmly, tapping her nails against the lid of her drink, "sometimes, when a girl likes a guy, but she's insecure or having difficulties with her feelings, she'll get interested in what type of girl _he_ likes. Maybe she'll ask. Maybe she'll push some competition his way, even to pretend like she doesn't like him."

For extra effect, she gave him a heavy-lidded look, batting her eyelashes.

"But secretly, in her heart of hearts, all she wants is for him to say, 'I don't want her. I choose you.'"

The coo of her fake gooey romantic voice made him snicker at first – it didn't suit her at all – but then he lightly pushed her face away.

"Come on, that's not it," he muttered. God, he hoped that wasn't it. It would take someone with remarkable patience to put up with someone like Ami.

Yuri thoughtfully hummed her agreement.

"It's a possibility, but it doesn't feel right to me," she mused. "Still, she's the ringleader, so there's got to be a reason behind it."

"Yeah. Ami's the one using her hopeless romantic melodramatics to convince Kurimu of my feelings for her." Ayato tried to enjoy the cool breeze that had just picked up, but it was very faint and fleeting. "And Hejjiguchi wouldn't even bother helping Ami bug me if it weren't for Kurimu. He's not doing this to match-make. He's doing this because he's not sure I'm 'right for her.'"

Yuri pursed her lips into a small frown as he said this, face closing in deep thought. He was surprised she wasn't teasing him about being a dangerous bad boy who went to school every day and did all his chores, but he appreciated that she might be holding her tongue.

He thought, then, of class this morning, and allowed himself an appreciative half-smile.

"Though, honestly, if it weren't for all this, Kurimu wouldn't be so bad." He snorted, and started digging further into his bento box with his chopsticks. "She actually got Hejjiguchi to shut up this morning. Now there's a girl after my own heart—"

Horribly within earshot, there was an awful screeching sound – like someone skidding to a stop.

Ayato glanced up from his lunch. Hejjiguchi stared back, eyes cartoonishly large.

"Shit," said Ayato.

Hejjiguchi's eyes narrowed again. He signed the "I'm watching you" gesture a couple of times before zooming off.

Sighing, Ayato looked tiredly to Yuri. She still had that thoughtful expression on her face, staring into her lap as if Hejjiguchi's sudden appearance hadn't even fazed her.

"Uh…" He elbowed her. "Did you hear what he just heard?"

"Yep," she said, with a faint smirk. "And you won't hear the end of it. Unless…"

"Unless?" Ayato prompted.

There was something about the tone that she'd get, coupled with an evil glint in her eye. It made her look and sound wonderfully villainous, like a mastermind who had the protagonist right where she wanted them.

"Just give me a little time to run with this thought." Yuri took a hard swig of coffee, then sighed cheerfully. "Trust me, it's a doozy."

"So helpful," he tsked, fishing some fried dumpling out of his lunch. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime, now that Hejjiguchi has more ammo on me?"

" _Steer into the skid_ ," Yuri said, so emphatically he almost dropped the dumpling. She grabbed his arm, fingers clinging to the fabric of his sleeve. "If he doesn't immediately tell Kurimu what you said, it means he's not on Ami's side. He doesn't want Kurimu to know your feelings. And that means you have to flirt with her."

Ayato wrenched his arm away in horror, searching her eyes for sanity. "Good God, woman! What are you getting me into?!"

"Hejjiguchi is like a loose thread in Ami's sweater. Picking at it can make the whole thing unravel." Yuri leaned forward, lowering her voice but vamping up her enthusiasm. "You know what Hejjiguchi's loose thread is? His disapproval."

Swallowing hard, Ayato didn't drop his gaze. Yuri's intensity could be magnificently terrifying sometimes.

Rather, he was scared, but in a "dear God tell me more" kind of way.

"Your job is to mess with his head," Yuri told him. "Chat her up. Show that you really are warming up to her and might actually be interested. The more it bothers him, the less he'll put up with. He won't stand for it. It'll put him at odds with Ami."

"But it'll give Ami more material," he pressed. "And I'll be toying with Kurimu."

"For now, you'll just have to risk it." Yuri waved it off, and kicked the dirt as she lazily swung her feet. "I mean, that's another scab to pick at, right? You'll have to get a feel for whether Kurimu is even interested or not."

Ayato scoffed. "Of course she's interested. Look at me." He tossed his hair for good measure.

Yuri almost cried with laughter. Maybe he needed to brush up on his flirting skills.

But still he wondered, even after they parted ways for class, what was going in Yuri's evil little head. He'd admit he had been tempted to do this right before summer break, but… wouldn't hitting on Kurimu just be digging him into a much deeper hole? He wasn't as worried about Kurimu's delusions of love as he was Ami's. Besides, playing Kurimu like that? Hejjiguchi would be furious.

And yet…

Ayato smiled to himself as he approached his classroom.

Hejjiguchi would be _furious._

* * *

Kurimu, Ami, and Hejjiguchi were already in their seats when he walked in. Although angled in such a way that she faced both Kurimu and Hejjiguchi, Ami's chipper voice and exaggerated gestures were directed more at Hejjiguchi, who was propped up with his back against the window and his feet on the unoccupied chair next to him. He looked only vaguely interested in Ami's ramblings and ready to nap, but his eyes opened a sliver when he caught Ayato's scrutiny.

Ayato hesitated, then straightened his shoulders and walked over to his desk. Right in front of Kurimu. Now that Ami was hogging Hejjiguchi's attention (or perhaps the other way around), and rather than bother to get a word in edgewise Kurimu was listening politely, this seemed… an opportune moment.

Time to test the waters.

"Kurimu," Ayato greeted her as he sat down. He turned in his seat, resting his arm on the back of his chair. "How was your summer?"

Her head pricked up, but she hesitated as if she wasn't sure she'd heard right (Ami apparently couldn't hear him over the sound of herself talking). Then she brought herself around to face him, and when he tilted his head at her invitingly, her puzzled expression became friendly. Hejjiguchi's behind her, not so much.

"It was so much fun. Thank you very much for asking!" Kurimu gave him a cheerful smile. "Ami, Hejjiguchi, and I spent the whole summer at the beach and the pool. The sun felt so nice."

He made some acknowledging noises and carefully studied her, keeping it only conspicuous enough to look somewhat flirty. She was too calm and polite right now, even for her. If Hejjiguchi had told Ami and Kurimu what he'd said, the news would still be fresh. A girl like Kurimu would be blushing too fiercely to answer him in coherent sentences.

Likewise, Hejjiguchi wouldn't be staring him down like a guard dog right now.

Maybe he should turn up the heat.

"You went to the pool all summer? The one here in Akuma?" Ayato pretended to look surprised, then intrigued when she nodded. He leaned forward an inch or two. "That's a shame, I must have _just_ missed you."

Ami finally tore herself away from her one-and-a-half-sided conversation with Hejjiguchi. Her eyes had gone starry for a moment (flickering between stars and cartoonish hearts, he imagined), full of pure joy. And now they'd dulled to something else, and Ayato had the vague sensation that he was locking eyes with a very happy shark.

"Naoi, did you say you were at the pool too?" Ami raised her eyebrows, looking hopefully between Ayato and Kurimu. "I thought you were busy at your dad's pottery store."

Ayato held back a frown. He knew he'd mentioned it to them before, but still… restraining orders might be in his best interest.

"He changed my schedule for summer break," he replied, more to Kurimu than to Ami. "Said I wasn't productive without the conditions and restrictions that school brings. Too much time on my hands." He smiled innocently at Kurimu, making sure to keep in Hejjiguchi's line of sight. "I guess I just kept daydreaming about something."

Ami stared. Hejjiguchi glared.

Kurimu beamed.

"Me too!" she said, sounding kindly sympathetic. "Without any worries weighing me down, it's so easy for my mind to just drift away like a balloon. Then the whole day is gone…"

Ayato disguised a desperate need to snicker with an encouraging smile. Kurimu was strictly studious and pleased their teachers with her good grades, but when it came to flirting, it was in one ear and out the other with her. Maybe she thought he was just breaking out of his shell?

Then again, he wasn't really interested in flirting if he didn't have to. From the looks of it, him just talking to her was a big red "NO" in Hejjiguchi's book. Especially after what he'd heard during lunch.

"Kurimu," Ami said patiently, "don't you wish Naoi had told us he was free this summer? The four of us could've gone somewhere together!"

Kurimu smiled at the thought at first, then seemed to realize what Ami was hinting at. Her cheeks grew flushed, and when she turned the smile Ami's way, Ayato could've sworn that it twitched. Just a little.

"But that would've been an unlucky number," he said, and nodded in Hejjiguchi's direction. "I think if you're going to take Hejjiguchi to any kind of place with water, he'll want all the luck in the world on his side."

Hejjiguchi eyed him warily, even more so when he threw Kurimu a wink that made her giggle. His features only relaxed when Kurimu turned around to give him a supportive pat on the arm. "Heh," he muttered, sweating.

"Maybe you could bring Nakamura along, then," Kurimu offered, brightening up at the thought.

Ami looked very tired all of a sudden. Ayato could almost sympathize with her if she hadn't brought this on herself. _Difficult to match-make for a love that isn't there, isn't it? When one partner's unwilling and the other's oblivious._

"Five would solve the problem," Ami agreed, stroking her chin as if thinking hard. "But I'm not sure how she'd feel about that. You know what I mean, right?"

Ayato squinted at her, suspicious and strangely defensive. No, he wasn't sure what she meant by that. Hejjiguchi frowned too, possibly just as confused as he was. He almost looked to Ayato for answers, then thought the better of it. Which was just as well – he wouldn't have told him even if he knew.

"I guess we'll have to keep it in twos and threes then," Ayato said, and gave Kurimu a performative wink.

Just as he predicted, the wink almost literally flew right over her head. Smiling Kurimu interpreted it as friendly. Behind her, Hejjiguchi narrowed his eyes as if a flirt-dar warning was going off in his head.

Ayato smiled. Kurimu's naiveté would work well with this mission.

"You're absolutely right!" Ami said, with too much joy for him to feel too comfortable. "I agree with you, four is too unlucky."

Satisfied, he started to turn back around in his seat.

"Maybe you and Kurimu could walk home together after school, to make up for lost summer time? Hejjiguchi and I wouldn't mind."

He froze. Three-quarters facing the front board. So close. He chanced a look over his shoulder.

How far was he really willing to go with this flirting game? There wasn't really a point in walking alone with Kurimu when Hejjiguchi couldn't see them. She was immune to his fake flirts so far, and wouldn't think to mention them to her friends. In fact, just now Ami's suggestion gave her a look on her face like she was trying to divide large numbers in her head.

Although…

Planting the idea in Hejjiguchi's brain might be worth it, judging by the guy's feeble twitching poker face. Just the thought of Kimito Naoi's son left alone with his sweet, defenseless little friend… it must put such horrible ideas in his mind. A tricky, hungry wolf and Little Red Riding Hood in the woods with no huntsman to protect her. Why, that thought would probably follow him all day!

But still, despite Yuri's scheme...

"What do you say?" Ami coaxed, still cheery. "The two of you live pretty close to each other, after all."

Ayato frowned. So he'd heard.

"I'll have to think about it—" he started to say.

"Kawata!" their teacher boomed, now standing at the blackboard. "Could you hold it down? You're disrupting your classmates."

As Ami squeaked an apology, Ayato grinned to himself and turned fully to the front. Saved by the teacher. Whether it was his obscured position behind focused students like Masuda, or his identity as a Naoi, invisibility had its perks.

* * *

The end of the school day could not have come sooner for Ayato.

Frankly, just listening to the troublesome trio passing notes behind him was tiring and exceptionally nerve-wracking. Well, Kurimu sounded like she was more of a note-passer rather than writer, so it was probably just Hejjiguchi and Ami. Still, Ami would scribble furiously as if her life depended on it. She almost got caught until she took off the golden bracelets that kept jangling.

What in God's name were they corresponding about?

Him, he guessed. He didn't care if that made him sound narcissistic.

But during clean-up, Hejjiguchi and Ami kept whispering fiercely to each other and occasionally glancing in his direction. He had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he elected to stay as far away from them as possible.

Except for the time Hejjiguchi got into the zoukin gake stance and raced haphazardly across his path with a wash cloth, striking him with déjà vu just as hard as he had almost struck his foot. Ayato followed him with his gaze for a moment, then shook his head. No, somehow it just wasn't the same.

Somehow he got lucky, and escaped the vicinity before any of them could snatch him up on the "I'll think about it" offer. Ideally, they'd forgotten all about it. But it was safer not to place any bets on that.

He was halfway to his and Yuri's stone border meeting place when he spotted her. She wasn't alone.

"Naoi!" Hejjiguchi greeted, feigning surprise as Ayato approached them. "And here I'd figured you'd left with Kurimu already."

Yuri looked vaguely amused, standing there with her arms crossed.

"Hejjiguchi was just telling me how you were talking about walking Kurimu home today," she said, lifting an eyebrow and giving him a shrewd smile. "I knew you got tired of me over the summer."

"I said I had to think about it," Ayato said firmly. Damn her for playing along.

"Fresh term, fresh start, am I right?" Hejjiguchi flashed them a merry thumbs up and a wink, like he hadn't even heard him. "So I was just asking Yuri here if she wanted to walk home with me instead."

Ayato clenched his fists. Damn _him_ for calling his bluff!

This was going way too far, forcing his hand in such a way. Trying to lock in Yuri so that he'd go with Kurimu. Whose idea was it? Ami, trying to divert the "other girl," or was Hejjiguchi really still trying to play mind games?

Well, Ayato could call bluffs too.

"Thanks, but I think he wants to go with me," said Yuri, before he could open his mouth. Shifting closer to him, she tapped a finger to her chin as if just realizing something. "Although I hope your friend Ami didn't assume the same thing you did. Kurimu might be all by herself right now!"

Hejjiguchi's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead.

Clinging to the epiphany, Ayato grinned meaningfully at him. "Now, in good conscience, which one of us do you think is more likely to stand her up?"

The imbecile was gone so fast his exit shook the tree branches.

As he and Yuri made their own exit through the school gates, Ayato's laughter melted into a relieved sigh. He may have played with the idea a couple of times today but messing with Hejjiguchi's head wasn't worth walking home with someone who still felt like stranger. When he thought about it, Yuri was the only one he really wanted to walk home with.

"Thanks for helping me get out of that," he said.

Yuri shrugged it off, but allowed an animated grin as she trotted across the road.

"Hey, Kurimu gets to see you in class every day," she reminded him, pivoting slightly to see if he was keeping up. "I didn't want to have to wait until tomorrow morning to hear how your mission went."

He scoffed. "Oh, I see how it is. So otherwise you would have walked home with him, is that right?"

"Well, we do live in the same neighborhood…"

More jeering and prodding ensued, but eventually he gave her a status report on how the second half of the day had gone. Yuri listened carefully, slowing on the sidewalks at certain points as she processed his notes. The comparison of the reactions between Hejjiguchi and Kurimu cracked her up. She found it especially amusing when he mentioned that Kurimu had offered to invite her along (he decided not to bring up the specifics of Ami's rebuttal).

"Though I'm not sure why you wanted me to do this," Ayato considered while they were walking through town. "It was already obvious that Hejjiguchi doesn't want us together. He said so himself, back in July."

"When you weren't even talking to her." Yuri stopped briefly to linger over some skirts in a window display. "Now instead of posing as the reclusive bad boy, you're showing interest and being friendly. He's not going to want to play the game anymore if you start getting in on it."

"Start?" Ayato sweated the thought. "How long do I have to keep this up, anyway?"

Yuri drew away from the window and fell into an unhurried pace, tapping her chin again.

"Give me a little more time," she said. "A few days, maybe. I need some more evidence to ensure that today wasn't a fluke."

"What are you talking about?" Honestly, if she had a solution and she was withholding it from him…! "A fluke for what?"

Yuri just beamed.

"You said you're good at deduction, so figure it out!" she told him, and led him by the wrist up the crosswalk. "I'll tell you when I'm sure of it."

Ayato sighed again. It was hard to do detective work when he was constantly swatting at flies.

They made their way onto the forest path, but not before Yuri playfully waggled her eyebrows in the direction of Midori Hill. It was a gesture he really could have done without. After school was reserved for different worries, much more pressing issues than some girl being shoved at him.

But even as they grew closer to the Naoi estate, his mind was farther away.

He didn't like feeling out of the loop with Yuri. Her playfully concealing a theory reminded him of Ami's strange comment. _You know what I mean, right?_ She could have just been saying Yuri wouldn't get along with them, but he didn't think that was the case. Yuri thought Kurimu was sweet, and though he was loathe to admit it, she got on pretty well with Hejjiguchi. He couldn't think of anything that Yuri personally held against Ami. So why would Yuri joining them be such an issue?

What did Ami know about Yuri that he didn't?

It had to have something to do with… whatever it was she didn't want to talk about at her party. That was the feeling that he got just now.

Maybe if she knew what he was thinking about, she'd discourage his deduction skills.

"To think," Yuri mused, a playful lilt in her voice as they approached the clearing, "you were this close to bringing another girl home to meet your mom."

Ayato covered up a wince when she said that. Fine, so maybe he had some avoidable topics of his own.

"You're not going to ask me to go that far, are you?" he asked warily.

"Of course not," Yuri said, casually brushing the idea away. "Just keep chatting her up. If you're lucky, either she'll keep missing your signals or you'll lose your broody charm."

Ayato was relieved, but still eyed her with a bit of skepticism. _If he was lucky?_ They were playing with fire here – fire named Ami Kawata. Something like this was bound to come around and bite him in the ass.

Noticing, she added, "Meanwhile, you'll be driving Hejjiguchi to his breaking point."

Ayato broke out into a grand smile, rubbing his chin. "I suppose I can keep this going a little bit longer."

They parted ways with a laugh, and he trotted up the slope to his house. Inside, he'd thank his mother for the after-school meal she prepared, but they wouldn't talk much otherwise. She'd send him off to the workshop with few words passed between the two of them.

It wasn't the mug anymore; it was just that it had been a fluke. They lived in completely different worlds. Worlds that gambled with heavy risk when they crossed, at an intersection too treacherous to bother.

Kurimu's world, he found, was much easier to breach.

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I'm ready to tell you my theory."_

" _How does he always get here before me?!"_

" _There are two bugs in this system."_

" _Serves me right, I guess."_

" _She's not a possession!"_

" _Invite her out?"_

" _Operation, start!"_

[Chapter 19]: **Piecing Together.**


	19. Piecing Together

**A/N: Brain still bad. Hopefully chapter is quality though? Happy almost Easter to those who celebrate, and also happy almost April!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 19]: Piecing Together_

* * *

"I'm ready to tell you my theory," Yuri said when Ayato joined her in the club room for lunch on Friday. No greeting, just right down to business.

"Good," he groaned, falling into his seat across from her at their shared desk and immediately massaging his temples. "Because I'm about to lose my mind."

School had been in session for two weeks now. A very, very long two weeks. Ami, the dear friend that she was, had explained to Kurimu at some point during one of their girl talks or sleepovers or whatever it was they did together outside of class… that Ayato had indeed been flirting with her. And while he didn't get strong vibes that she was flirting back, it was significantly more awkward to hit on a girl when she looked like a lost little lamb. A fiercely blushing lamb with Ami as her romance shepherd.

Meanwhile, almost every time he went out to the courtyard to meet Yuri after school, Hejjiguchi was already out there asking Yuri if she wanted to walk home with him this time. The third day this happened, after Hejjiguchi darted off to meet up with Ami and Kurimu, Ayato pulled at his scalp in exasperation.

" _How_ does he always get here before me?!" he'd yelped.

Yuri merely shrugged. "Track and field."

He hadn't bothered to ask how she knew that, but he believed it. Hejjiguchi was skinny with a light build, and when he was on his feet he could never stand still. It was a surprise he wanted to walk home with anybody, since "walk" was nowhere near his resting pace.

With friends like Hejjiguchi and motor-mouth Ami, it was a wonder Kurimu didn't take deep naps during every class. God knew he almost wanted to.

But Yuri had suggested having lunch in the club room for a reason. After Hejjiguchi's run-by eavesdropping, it was safer for them to discuss things in here rather than out there. All the same, Ayato had checked the closed door before he sat down.

"Before I say anything – what'd they do this time?" Yuri asked. There was marked sympathy in her tone, but he could tell through his fingers that she was smirking.

"Oh, the usual stupidity that should have died out two months ago," Ayato said with a sigh. "Ami going on an impassioned rant to Hejjiguchi about high school sweethearts starting a love for the ages. Kurimu going bright red whenever I pass back a piece of paper. Hejjiguchi making some dumb joke about our hands touching."

He took a deep, exaggerated breath and started counting on his fingers.

"Ami nudging Kurimu into inviting me to have lunch with them. Hejjiguchi instantly challenging me to an eating contest. Ami laughing girlishly and telling Kurimu we're trying to be manly for them. Me sneaking out the door while Kurimu makes a heartfelt plea to Hejjiguchi not to choke this time."

Yuri smiled knowingly. "Did you go back in with a rebuttal?"

"Almost," he replied, only half-kidding. He snatched up her Key coffee and raised it to his lips. "Two months, Yuri. I can't take their lunacy anymore."

"Hey, I was drinking that!"

"Tell me what you know and I'll give it back," Ayato said calmly, taking a sip.

He wasn't a coffee person, not by any means. But the caffeine did him some good, and also he liked the flustered then fuming narrow-eyed look Yuri got whenever he one-upped her like that. The one where she sat back and contemplated her next move, like a chess game.

"It's simple, really." Closing her eyes, Yuri leaned back and waggled a finger. "Remember at lunch on our first day back? You mentioned something very important about the cogs of this romance rumor mill."

Ayato raised an eyebrow at her. He never said anything about cogs. "What's that?"

"Let me tell you something about Ami Kawata." Yuri steadily counted her fingers against her palm. "She's part of the drama club. From what I've gathered, she's in love with love. And she's Kurimu's best friend, but she's the aggressive to Kurimu's passive. The hot pink to her sunny orange." She flicked her gaze to him. "Would you say they're like sisters?"

"That's… a fairly accurate term for them, yes," he replied, as multiple instances of Ami adjusting Kurimu's hair bows, squeeze-hugging her, and squealing excitedly about something while locking hands flashed to mind.

"So that would make Ami the big sis," Yuri said knowingly. "The role model."

Ayato nodded, starting to put it together. "I see. The big sister is usually the one who guides the little sister on relationships. Gives her expectations."

"Exactly." With a brief wistful glance at her stolen coffee, Yuri started in on her egg sandwich. "Hopeless romantic, dramatic best friend with big sister tendencies. That's a recipe for a dangerously convincing influence."

"What are you saying, that Ami's a powerful hypnotist?" Ayato scoffed, but he was grinning. "We already know Ami's the ringleader. Something like that won't win you back your little drink."

Yuri gave him a miffed look before disdainfully swallowing her food.

"I'm saying," she stressed, "that the part Kurimu plays in this game of theirs is artificial. She missed your signals on the first day, she's embarrassed by them now. Know what that means?"

"She's not into this," he said automatically. Still not a grand epiphany, but useful to contemplate.

"Not as much as Ami is," Yuri agreed. Her lips curved into a half-smile. "I think she wants a boyfriend in theory. But she wouldn't be doing this if Ami weren't so persuasive. You don't like her as much as Ami says you do, and she doesn't like you as much as she thinks she does. That's a fundamental bug in this matchmaking system. One of them, anyway."

Ayato tapped his fingers rhythmically against the can. "And the other?"

"Think back to what you said at lunch on the first day." Yuri leaned in conspiratorially, even though they were the only two in here. "About Hejjiguchi's role in all this."

He thought back. Right before the part Hejjiguchi overheard. "He wouldn't be helping Ami hound me if it weren't for Kurimu?"

"After that."

"He doesn't think I'm right for her."

"That's right." She chewed thoughtfully on some tempura. "Teasing you about liking her was all well and good when they were disguised warnings for you to maintain your distance. Now you're sweet-talking her and he hates it. You're encouraging Ami's ideas and presenting yourself as a _suitor_."

They both snorted at the word. It conjured up horrible mental pictures of him showing up at Kurimu's doorstep with combed hair and a bouquet of daisies.

"So," Ayato mused, feeling a distinct trickle of hope in his veins, "what's his next move? You think he'll rebel against Ami?"

"Dunno. On his own, that's not for certain." Closing her bento box, she got up from the table and wandered over to the window. "There are two bugs in this system. To get it to crash, we need them working together."

He regarded her curiously, taking another hearty sip while her back was turned. "And just how are we going to do that?"

"Simple, really. We hook them up."

Ayato spat out a mouthful of coffee all over the desk – then choked and went into a five-second coughing fit as whatever stayed went down the wrong tube. "Hook them up?!"

Yuri didn't turn around.

"Operation Matchmake," she told him. "Also, you owe me one new coffee."

* * *

By the time class was over that day, Ayato was in quite a state.

He'd been coherent enough to do as Yuri had suggested and watch the trio carefully, or listen when he had his back to them. When he did, it was as if he'd been handed the final, crucial piece of an important puzzle. As if Yuri had just put a magnifying glass over one of his dreams and given him a groundbreaking interpretation.

For starters, there was that time between periods where Hejjiguchi was listening to rock music through his earbuds while Kurimu was reading in front of him. Frankly, it was so loud that Ayato could hear it two seats ahead. He was just about to send back a dark glare, when Kurimu put down her book and turned around to face Hejjiguchi, who was staring out the window at the track field with his chin in his hand.

She tapped his free hand, and Ayato was very glad that he was still watching at this point, because Hejjiguchi startled so much at the touch that he jumped in his seat and accidentally yanked out his earbuds.

"Sorry!" Kurimu squeaked, drawing her hand back to the edge of his desk. "But could you turn down your music just a little bit, please?"

His face had reddened noticeably, but he laughed it off.

"Sure thing," he said, obediently tapping away at the volume. He shook his head, snickering at himself as he retrieved his earbuds from dangling off the edge of his desk. "And I call you the jumpy one? Serves me right, I guess."

Ayato subtly turned back to the front just before Kurimu did, but he heard the smile in her voice all the same.

"I didn't do that on purpose, I swear!" she said, giggling.

"Uh-huh, _sure_ …"

Hard to believe it was only five months ago that Hejjiguchi was "that guy" who kept putting his dirty athlete shoes on the back of her chair. At least he'd learned some manners since then. Before that, Kurimu never would've plucked up the nerve to chide him.

And then there were little things after that. He didn't get a lot of stealthy opportunities to observe the trio, but he did return to the room after a bathroom break. Kurimu had leaned back in her seat and stretched a little, so that some of her long hair fell against Hejjiguchi's desk. He looked amused rather than bothered, until she heard the classroom door open and turned to look. The wave of hair receded.

Ayato had received a particularly dull "oh look, it's you" glance from Hejjiguchi because of this. In response, he merely flashed a cheesy grin right back at him. Taste of his own medicine.

Other than that, most moments were little things overheard during class. Others were the little details he'd catch during his Ami-awarded seconds in the spotlight. Granted, these days he was kind of starting it, but she was the one drawing it out.

"It's such a shame," Ami said right before their last period, shaking her head. "I know you and Nakamura don't get a lot of time together, but since the school festival's only a couple of months away I'll be spending more time after school with the drama club. I just don't like thinking of Kurimu walking home by herself."

Kurimu wrinkled her nose, a little perplexed as she stared questioningly at Ami.

"But I do still have Hejjiguchi to—" she started to say.

"But Hejjiguchi's on track and field, and competitions are going to heat up for him soon," Ami interrupted. She turned to Hejjiguchi for confirmation, tossing her hair as she did so. "So he'll be training after school too. Right?"

Hejjiguchi actually hesitated. Ayato thought for a moment he could see his brain functioning back there.

"You think I can't walk Kurimu home and still be back in time for practice?" His eyes crinkled as he crossed his arms in mock offense. "C'mon, Ami. It's me. Just admit you want Naoi and Kurimu to have alone time."

His gaze shifted to Ayato.

"I mean, if _your_ problem is leaving Yuri alone, you already know I'm happy to keep her company. She _is_ in the neighborhood." He laughed, obnoxiously loudly in Ayato's opinion, and threw him a wink. "C'mon, you already hog her during lunch."

Ami's expression dissolved into an agitated frown.

"She's not a possession, Hejjiguchi!" she squawked, spinning around to face him again. "Is this about Naoi or is it really about Nakamura?!"

Hejjiguchi looked caught completely off-guard after that, and Ayato was able to blend back into the classroom while Ami interrogated someone else for a change. Until the teacher came in and busted the two of them for arguing. He enjoyed that too – but found it even more satisfying to glance back at Kurimu and flash her a sympathetic smirk. It felt particularly devilish on his end, and on top of that he was 100 percent certain Hejjiguchi had witnessed it.

In fact, he was meant to.

* * *

After class, once cleaning time fizzled out, Ayato didn't even try to beat Hejjiguchi out the door. Yuri could handle him. Today, she intended as such.

No, instead he chose to take advantage of the situation. He'd just heard Ami chirp to Kurimu that she'd meet her in five minutes, before vanishing down the hall to the left. Fate was being good to him today; this would be so much easier without Ami fluttering around.

His target was just about to step out when he called to her.

"Kurimu, can you wait for a second? There's something I need to ask you."

* * *

" _We've got time left before class, so we need to start forming a game plan," Yuri told him, snatching the can from his grip._

 _She'd returned to the mopped up desk after dropping her "Hejjiguchi likes Kurimu" theory on him, and he'd taken a moment to run every interaction through his head wondering how the hell he could've been so naïve. But then again, he tried to pride himself, of course he wouldn't notice something so trivial when he didn't give a damn. The retrieval of her prized coffee was what finally brought him out of his stupor._

 _Now it was worth giving a damn, if it would possibly put an end to this pathetic high school drama._

" _We'll just play their game." Ayato tented his fingers, leaning forward. Even if there were no deep feelings between the two, such things could be easily manifested. "We lure them out to a romantic spot somehow and leave them alone together." He rested his chin on his fingers, carefully weighing their options. "It's got to be someplace meaningful and intimate in a subtle way, somewhere inherently romantic where they'd want to go with someone on a date, but still kind of innocent."_

 _Yuri's eyes lit up almost immediately. "I know the perfect place."_

" _Where?"_

" _The walking bridge, the one by your house?" She leaned back in her seat, bringing her drink to her lips but pausing to mull over a thought. "I see it every day when I walk home from your house."_

 _He rubbed his chin, picturing it in his head. Yes, he knew it fairly well. It had a pleasant naturistic vibe to it. The whole forest was peaceful, but the steady flow of the stream gave that particular area a soothing ethereal quality. His brother used to like dirtying his hands in its silt and washing them off in the enticingly clear water._

" _That_ is _a perfect spot," he agreed. Easy enough, since it was close to their regular traveling route. "But that brings up another question… how are we going to lure the two of them out there in the first place?"_

" _Easy," Yuri said, beaming as she nudged aside her lunch for arm room. "You'll talk to Kurimu. Invite her out to discuss things."_

" _Invite her out?" Ayato repeated dubiously. She'd said he wouldn't have to go very far with this, but…_

" _That's right. You're still going to have to act like you like her for this. Ask her out." Yuri gave him her best heavy-lidded alluring look, along with her soppiest voice. "'I'd like to talk to you about what's going on between—'"_

* * *

"—the two of us," he said, secretly impressed with this enigmatic smitten bad boy persona he'd slipped into so easily. "Will you please meet me by the walking bridge in Haruna Forest on Saturday so I can confess something to you?"

A much redder version of Kurimu stared back at him.

* * *

" _Fine, we'll work on that." Ayato grimaced; no way was he going to say something that formal and embarrassing. "And what about Hejjiguchi?"_

"I'll _lure_ him _out," said Yuri, with little to no hesitation. "We still kind of talk sometimes, so if he tries to find me after school and I meet him halfway, he probably won't think too much of it."_

 _He eyed her suspiciously. "And how exactly will you do that?"_

 _All he got in return was a cryptic grin. "Oh, I'll figure something out."_

 _Something about her response tugged at his nerves. It was the mysteriousness, of course, but also what the hell would she have to talk about with an idiot like Hejjiguchi? That's what he was still wondering about. He hated to think the fool had anything in common with her._

 _Still, it was a good use of Hejjiguchi's idiotic new habit – and if either of them could lure Hejjiguchi out, he'd rather not have it be him._

 _Satisfied, Yuri crushed the coffee can in her hand and slammed it on the table as she stood up._

" _Alright! We'll give status reports after school. We lead them to the bridge on Saturday at 12:30."_

 _As if punctuating for extra effect, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. Grabbing her lunch, Yuri flashed him a devious grin. They both knew who was waiting for him. Suddenly her part of the plan seemed unfairly easier._

" _Operation, start!"_

* * *

"Eh? Um, sure!" Kurimu yelped, breaking eye contact and making a run for the door. "I'll see you then!"

Ayato watched her scamper down the hall in the direction Ami had gone. Towards the drama club, he figured. But with her rabbit-like speed, she could very well join Hejjiguchi in track. He just thanked God and every particle in the universe she hadn't thought to stick around and walk him home. Things were already starting to change around here.

"Operation Start" indeed.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Next chapter will have a special "Yuri POV," as I've done with sections in Heartbreak Cure.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I have feelings for Ayato Naoi."_

" _You're way off!"_

" _Sometimes boys need a little help."_

" _Me? What are_ you _doing here?"_

" _Maybe he really does like you."_

" _I'd wait as long as it takes."_

" _That… is_ brilliant!"

[Chapter 20]: **Operation Matchmake.**


	20. Operation Matchmake!

**A/N: Sorry for the delay on this part - I was outside for a while doing some yard work. And I wasn't sure whether I should update or not. Slowly getting better brain-wise! No more brain-fog, headaches... no longer _burning._ Still yucky in terms of throat/chest discomfort, but such is anxiety. C'est la vie. Gettin' better. Zain, I didn't DM you my thanks for last chapter's review. Hehe, love that you appreciated the indirect kiss there! And yes, I'm super pleased to introduce romantic bridge symbolism. Let me know what you think! :D**

 **Today's chapter is a Yuri POV! I might have to do a couple more of these in the future, but we'll see how things pan out.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 20]: Operation Matchmake_

* * *

A few hallways away, Yuri Nakamura spotted her target and marched toward him with a purpose.

Hejjiguchi stopped in his tracks at first, his mind visibly skipping behind slightly widened eyes, but recovered quickly and met her in the middle of the hall with a pleasant grin.

"Yuri, you beat me to it," he said jovially, arms folded. He checked over her shoulder. "What's up, don't you have a walking buddy today?"

On any other day she appreciated his sense of humor, but as she did in fact want to meet up with Ayato after this, there wasn't much time for his games. "Actually, do you have a second? I need to talk to you about something in private."

"Sure, but—" She snatched his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom. He startled, but laughed nervously rather than breaking away. "Whoa, firm grip! Gotta tell Ami I found her a new arm wrestling partner…"

Closing the door discreetly behind them, she pressed her back against the wood and eyed him thoughtfully as he leaned on the edge of a desk. The space between them was more significant than it would be if they were outside waiting for Ayato. It usually was.

Still, he returned her look with genuine friendliness, albeit with a side of curiosity.

"So, Yuri…" he said tentatively, noting the closed door behind her with a flicked brow, "what did you want to talk to me about again?"

With a sigh, Yuri pushed herself off of the door.

"To tell you something very important," she paused to give him a solemn stare, "that stays between us."

He looked almost flattered, straightening his posture and meeting her eyes with equal earnestness. "Hey, cross my heart. I won't tell a soul."

"Good, because here it is." Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room to him. "I have feelings for Ayato Naoi."

Given the fact that she hadn't allowed herself time to rehearse, it surprised her how naturally her fake confession passed her lips. The pause had been for dramatic effect, but the delivery? No hesitation at all.

She did her best not to smirk, but… damn, maybe she should join the drama club. Ami could probably use her impeccable acting skills.

Hejjiguchi, on the other hand, grinned enough for both of them.

"Yeah, I thought so." He ended on a knowing chuckle, but as he scratched his messy blue hair, his humor back-stepped into ambivalent curiosity. "No offense, but what do you see in him? I figured you'd go for someone who's a little more friendly and gentle, not the spawn of…"

He trailed off for a second; she must have been unconsciously giving him a look.

"I mean, the potter's son?" Hejjiguchi asked, sheepish but sliding back into skepticism. "He's always seemed kind of standoffish."

"Maybe to you," Yuri mused, crossing her arms. "But you don't know him like I do. He's nothing like his dad." She gave him another pointed stare. "Besides, he's only been like that with you because of—"

"Kurimu," he finished for her. "Yeah, you're right."

Yuri had to give him credit. His mischief and judgment weren't his best traits, but there was still some unspoken humility buried there underneath his hotshot spirit. She doubted Kurimu would be friends with him if there wasn't.

In fact, while she may not have known him personally during the time they'd lived in the same neighborhood, the humility seemed to be more evident this year. As if he'd gained some sorely needed self-awareness.

"But why are you telling me all of this, anyway?" Hejjiguchi asked, and then sweated the thought. "If it's because I've been flirting with you, I swear I've only been doing it to mess with his head—"

"I know, I just…" Yuri smiled nervously. "I wanted to tell someone I could trust, you know? I haven't been really close with anyone these days. You're the only person I feel comfortable talking to about this besides Naoi, and obviously I couldn't say it to him."

Hejjiguchi regarded her oddly for a moment, then relaxed.

"Okay," he said, noticeably relieved. Then he added, with a boyish little snort, "At first I thought you were looking for advice."

Yuri made a point of scoffing at the thought.

"Please!" she dismissed him, like even the suggestion amused her. "You're in the same boat as me."

Hejjiguchi froze.

"Huh?" he said dumbly.

Yuri narrowed her eyes, letting a coy smile spread over her lips.

"You have feelings for Kurimu," she said simply.

Hejjiguchi's eyes bulged; he was a mess of red ears and shrunken pupils as he coughed over his words.

"Whoa, I'm — that's not — you're way off!"

Yuri's smile broadened with each sputtered stammer, each octave his voice jumped. _Really?_ she thought, sizing him up. _Because it sounds like I just hit the bulls-eye._

"Am I?" she asked, keeping her tone cool but knowing. "You seem just as bothered as I am at the idea of her and Naoi together."

"Because she's one of my best friends!" Hejjiguchi blurted, increasingly defensive as he avoided her gaze. Agitated, he kicked at the ground. "And because I don't like Ami trying to set her up with someone else just because she wants to have some _alone time_ with me!"

Only the slightest arch of her eyebrows betrayed her consternation, but honestly his outburst threw Yuri for a loop. So that was why Ami was playing her little game of marionettes on strings? She didn't want to use the metaphor of chess, it was too calculated for a thespian.

"Fine, whatever," she muttered. "I just thought maybe you could help me?"

He hesitated, before glancing back up with her with a hint of suspicion. "Help you with what?"

She pursed her lips, eyebrows drawn as she considered him for a moment. "So you _don't_ like the idea of setting someone up with someone else just so you can get a person or people off your back?"

"…I don't think so?" Hejjiguchi said, frowning.

The questioning inflection at the end was useful, so she jumped on it. "Not even if it got Kurimu away from Naoi?" she coaxed.

His features scrunched up, hands fidgeting as he paced restlessly down the desk aisles. Each time he came back around, she saw thoughts warring behind furtive olive green eyes. Finally he pressed his hair back to the scalp. "Aw… okay, fine! I'm listening!"

"Good. Here's what I was thinking," Yuri said automatically, perching herself on a desk across from him. "You know how Naoi doesn't like you, right?"

It must've broken the tension, since he started cracking up. "Yeah, he's made it pretty obvious!"

Yuri nodded, tapping absently at her lap. "I figure, if he saw us together somewhere, looking like a couple or in a romantic situation..."

"It would bug the snot out of him," Hejjiguchi concluded.

"Exactly." Damn, what did girls do when they had a crush? Yuri nibbled shyly at her lip, then twirled at a lock of her hair. "I'm his best friend. He doesn't want to see me spending a bunch of time with some guy he can't stand, especially if it meant I'd have less time with him."

Hejjiguchi nodded thoughtfully, uncrossing his arms. Made sense to him.

"If he saw us somewhere romantic, he'd think something was going on between us," she continued. "That might make him jealous. It might just determine whether or not he has feelings for me too. He'll worry more about spending time with me than having any kind of relationship with Kurimu."

Inwardly, she was praising the inherent tone of sensibility in her voice. After all the years she listened to her parents practice persuasive speeches and interviews while they were home, she'd kind of absorbed it like an accent. Maybe that was the charisma Ayato had been talking about this summer.

Well, at least she was putting it to good use. Hejjiguchi seemed to be buying it, after all.

"I see." He chewed on his cheek, letting the thought settle. "Can't say I'm not tempted, but… wouldn't you rather Naoi come to realize his feelings for you on his own?"

Yuri tilted her head. "Hmm?"

"Like…" he paused, rocking on his palms as he leaned back on the desk, "looking at you one day while you stop to pick a flower, or nuzzle a cat that rubs up against your leg, or laugh at one of your inside jokes… and thinking out of nowhere, 'I love this girl.'"

She blinked a couple of times, dazed. Who knew Hejjiguchi could be such a romantic?

"Well that's cheesy as hell," she replied, to which he gave an unaffected shrug. "But I'm only putting a thought in his mind. Sometimes boys need a little help. No offense."

"Right…" She didn't blame him for the semi-critical look, but she was playing a part here. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Still of two minds about this. And besides, where would he see us?"

"On a walking bridge really close to the Naoi estate. Not that far from my house, or from Midori Hill." She observed the recognition on his face as she mentioned Kurimu's neighborhood, then took a breath as if her next thought made her weary. "Naoi said he wanted to meet up with Kurimu on Saturday to talk to her, so he'd pass by it on his way there—"

Bingo. His eyes narrowed considerably. "So he does want to meet up with her now? What for?"

"He said he was going to _confess_ something to her." Hejjiguchi's jaw tightened, just the reaction she was looking for. "Which means it's also likely he'll pass by again _with Kurimu_ on his way back, since he likes to walk and talk with girls, and then she'll need someone to distract her or give her a bit of a pick-me-up after everything goes down."

As for "everything," she let him fill in the blanks. For him, it was the hypothetical scenario she poured into his head of "fickle Naoi" getting terribly jealous and ditching poor Kurimu to scare off his best friend's evil suitor.

For her, well, she had something else in mind.

"I see…"

Hejjiguchi cut his eyes to the side, no doubt letting the whole thing pan out in his imagination. Letting it run maybe as wildly as he did. When at last he looked to her again, the ratio of uncertainty had diminished.

"Okay, I'm in," he said with conviction, standing up just as she did. "But only because I'm rooting for you. And because I really don't think Naoi is Kurimu's type."

"Great!" Yuri extended her hand, and they shook. "Meet me at the bridge on Saturday at 12:30. I'll text you directions."

With not a drop of reluctance left in his veins, they exchanged cell phones. Yuri barely veiled a smile as she typed herself in as a contact.

Whether he knew it or not, Operation Matchmake was underway.

* * *

They had to be fairly quick about this, Yuri knew.

Saturdays were work days, but she and Ayato had planned around that important detail carefully. While the whole idea was to stand the pair up, he didn't want to be away at the store while things transpired. They both fully intended to witness the fruits of their deception.

Good thing she'd known since April when Kimito had him scheduled to take his lunch break. For a full forty-five minutes.

Lots of things could happen in forty-five minutes.

Though, it wasn't like she could risk scheduling it at any other time. Kurimu might've known, or at least heard from someone, that he couldn't possibly meet her during his work hours. Unless her heart was pure and innocent enough that she'd give him the benefit of the doubt, she would've known ahead of time that he was going to stand her up. The whole plan would be in tatters.

Yuri wasn't sure whether she'd peg Hejjiguchi as the fashionably late type or the "right on time" speedster, so she snuck up the trail at just around 12:25. She'd sent Ayato a similar warning last night via walkie-talkie, knowing that Kurimu would anxiously bounce between politely early or right on the dot. Thus, she was more relieved than surprised to find that the careful footsteps she heard was him dodging through the trees.

She cast a wistful glance at the pretty wooden bridge, admiring its curve, before taking him by the wrist and leading him aside.

"Come on," she told him. "We can't be on the premises."

For a moment, she paused to regard the piece of architecture. If they went around and down, she knew there was enough space for them to hide underneath without hitting their heads or getting their shoes wet. To be honest, the thought kind of appealed to her.

As if reading her mind, he tugged her off the path. "Can't be close enough for them to hear us," he warned. "We might slip or splash. Best to hide behind these bushes."

Yuri nodded, giving him the okay. "As long as you keep yourself out of sight."

He smirked as she crouched down next to him. "You'll find that invisibility comes easily to me," he said, and parted the hedges expertly into a spy hole. "Hide and seek used to be my forte."

"Please, I'm a big sister." Yuri lowered her voice while Ayato strained to listen for footsteps. "Play against me, and I'll find you. Always."

 _If only you were as good of a sister as you were a seeker._

Mentally cursing away the thought, she and Ayato nestled comfortably into the dirt. And they waited.

Hejjiguchi was, surprisingly, the first one to show up. Whistling an unknown melody, he loped over to the bridge and leaned casually against the railing. Then he took out his phone and started tapping at the screen.

Yuri muttered a curse under her breath. As inconspicuously as she could, she wriggled in her spot until she reached the phone in her pocket and quickly muted it. Seconds later, the "I'm here" text would have come with a chirp. She muffled her relief and put her phone away.

Under the shade of the trees, Hejjiguchi's hair looked more green than blue. Maybe teal? Prussian blue? As long as Kurimu would misidentify him until it was too late. By then, Yuri figured, her interest would be piqued.

The three of them didn't have to wait long. Apparently Kurimu was one for compromise, so at 12:28 she padded up the trail in a nice vermilion sundress. She must have been the type to get lost in her own world, because her path took her so close to their hiding spot that Yuri could have reached out and poked her leg.

Well, that was almost an exaggeration. But if Kurimu's eyes had wandered, it might've been dangerous for them.

Instead, she must have spotted the figure on the bridge right as she passed them. Her feet came to a stop. Yuri held her breath and so did Ayato.

Her pace quickened. She scampered onto the bridge, where the figure was just as baffled to see her as she was to see him. Yuri pressed closer to Ayato in order to see through the makeshift spy hole.

"Kurimu?" Hejjiguchi pushed himself away from the railing, straightening his shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? What are _you_ doing here?" Kurimu tilted to the side, peering past him.

"Yuri asked me to meet me here," said Hejjiguchi, doing the same weird weaving motion as her. They seemed to notice their strange dance at the same time, and stopped with a sheepish laugh.

"But I was supposed to speak with Naoi here, alone." Kurimu turned back to the path, but finding nothing, she angled more towards Hejjiguchi with a frown. "Why would they both ask us to meet them in this exact place at the same time?"

He shrugged. "Maybe their brains are weirdly in sync."

"Or maybe they both really like this bridge," she considered. Backing up a couple of steps, she took in the intense greenery around her as well as the peaceful sound of the trickling stream. "It's such a pretty spot. Don't you think?"

At this point Hejjiguchi had visibly relaxed. "You know I like anything that keeps me above water," he said with a wink.

Kurimu giggled, brushing a lock of thick honey-brown hair behind her ear. In turn, Hejjiguchi grinned back at her. They unconsciously shifted closer to each other as a comfortable silence fell between them. Meanwhile, Yuri tried to muffle a snort as Ayato's mouth fell open.

When the moment drew out for too long, Hejjiguchi coughed nervously.

"So Naoi was supposed to confess something to you, huh?" he said, running a hand through the back of his hair.

She jumped at his words, inhaling sharply. "Confess… How did you know that?!"

"Eh!" Hejjiguchi visibly realized his mistake. His shade of red was visible from all the way over on Yuri's end. "Well! I mean! If he asked you to meet him in a place like this... maybe he really does like you."

"He was _supposed_ to meet me here…" Kurimu corrected him with a frown, which deepened as she looked him up and down with crossed arms. "Hang on. Why are _you_ meeting Yuri in a place like this?"

His blush deepened as he fumbled for words.

"We were—" He scratched his neck again, and paced around her a few steps. "Ah, just 'cause she asked me to, is all. She said before that she had something important to tell me."

"Hmm," said Kurimu, watching him from the railing. "It must not have been very important if she isn't here yet."

"Well, Naoi isn't here either," he countered.

The jab appeared to have stung. Kurimu's eyes darted here and there, checking their surroundings again as she rubbed her arms in a tight self-hug. Yuri felt kind of bad for making this part of the operation.

From his softened features and lowered shoulders, Hejjiguchi apparently felt some remorse too.

"I knew there was something I didn't like about that guy," he reasoned, stopping in his tracks. He clicked his tongue and wagged a finger in disapproval, shaking his head in arguably performative dismay. "Imagine, standing a lady up like this for a date! Or even being this late. It's bad manners."

Kurimu smiled, relaxing her arms. "Says the boy who talks with his mouth full of beef udon or chili dogs."

He lifted himself onto the handrail ledge and made himself comfortable – in Yuri's experience, an obvious attempt to look cool.

"Hey, at least I was on time!" he said, indignant. "If something or someone is important to me, then come hell or high water, I'll be there when they need me. It's only polite. That's what I'd do if I was your boyfriend."

That last part conjured a blanket of crimson to her cheeks, and apparently a deep interest in her shoes. Despite the thick honey-colored veil that fell over her face, a soft smile peeked through. "Hejjiguchi, you're a busy guy. I bet it takes all kinds of patience to date you."

"I wouldn't keep you waiting," he insisted.

"No, I'd understand. I'd wait as long as it takes." Kurimu raised her chin, her smile turned reassuring and even thoughtful. "Besides, you'd keep me on my toes."

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and gave a gentle laugh, which to Yuri wasn't as nervous as it was… happy.

"That's your charm. You're unpredictable and exciting."

"I am?" Forgetting where he was, Hejjiguchi gave a start – one that knocked him off balance and sent him tilting too far back. His frantic windmill motion with his arms was to no avail, and he toppled backwards off the bridge with a yell.

"Hejjiguchi!" she squeaked.

Lucky for the matchmakers, the significant splash Hejjiguchi made on impact was loud enough to overpower Ayato's barely muffled snickers as he completely lost it behind the bushes. Yuri nudged at him to be quiet, but even she bit back a smirk when he surfaced very wet and wide-eyed.

At this point, Kurimu had hurried off the deck and down to the river bank. She waded into the water to help him as he spit out a mouthful of water.

He sputtered again, shaking his hair like a dog. "Agh!"

The spitting and choking was a bit much, Yuri considered, seeing as he was upright in a stream that was only barely deep enough to qualify as a river. But the dramatics seemed to be working in his (or their) favor.

Kurimu hauled him to his feet, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady him. She looked him over, concerned. "Hejjiguchi, are you okay? Did you hit your head? The stream's still a bit shallow here…"

"Nah, I'm fine. I've had worse falls," said Hejjiguchi, a little dazed but still keeping cool. Then he met her eyes and reconsidered. "Not into water, though. I think I'm a little traumatized. Could really use a pick-me-up. Wanna go get ice cream or something?"

His wink for good measure clearly did the trick, since she smiled in return.

"Alright," she said, and then gave him another once-over with a giggle. "What do you say we go let you dry your clothes first?"

He flashed her a dripping thumbs-up. "Sounds good to me."

"It's a date, then!"

Hejjiguchi looked absolutely thrilled. He followed her out of the river, onto the dry banks, then wildly shook himself off again. Kurimu squeaked with laughter and darted out of the way onto the path. Ever the speedster, he caught up with her quickly, and they started up the trail.

And in fact, their shoulders and hands looked very much in danger of bumping.

Their path would take them closely within earshot, so Yuri and Ayato could not audibly celebrate just yet. But still, she relished in the oddly malevolent gleam of delight in his eyes and the rich sneer dimpling his cheeks.

 _They_ had orchestrated this. Operation: completed! It gave her a buzz of gleeful triumph that felt oddly familiar. How long had it been since she'd felt victory like this? How long, since…

"Wait," said Kurimu, slowing unnervingly close to their bush. "What about Naoi and Yuri?"

Hejjiguchi gave an uncaring wave, leading her further down the path towards town.

"You know what? Yuri only asked me to meet her here because she wanted to make Naoi jealous by seeing us together. She said she had feelings for him and needed my help." He laughed heartily as they started across the fateful walking bridge, and added with his trademark confidence, "If they're both M.I.A., they're probably just off making out."

And then they were gone.

Their voices faded beyond the trees. The only sounds left were chirping birds, flowing water, and an increased heartbeat. The blood in Yuri's veins burned so hot it went cold.

Damn it! Why did he have to _say_ that?!

Ayato froze.

Yuri froze.

They sat behind the bushes, just staring. Staring into the distance.

"Yuri…" he murmured in disbelief.

She played it cool. "Yeah?"

"That… is _brilliant!"_ Ayato jumped to his feet, turning to her with an earsplitting reverent grin. "You tricked him into thinking _he_ was playing Matchmaker and getting _me_ out of the way? How deliciously shrewd of you."

Relief instantly flushed her system; matching his grin, she stood up to take a bow. "That's me."

He took a moment to shake his head and bask in her benevolent trickery, then sighed and let his shoulders fall. His eyes flicked to the end of the trail, where their matchmaking victims had vanished. "I guess we've gotten that taken care of."

"Yep," Yuri mused, following his gaze. Then, remembering what Hejjiguchi had said, she added thoughtfully, "From what I gather, that's going to effectively shut Ami up."

His scrutinizing stare passed to her. "What do you mean?"

Yuri shrugged. "Apparently Ami was pushing Kurimu on you because she likes Hejjiguchi."

Ayato looked heavily relieved once more, no doubt glad the "Ami likes Naoi" theory had been debunked. Then his forehead wrinkled. "Well… that's certainly going to be weird for their friendship."

The weight of his words sunk in, and she blinked twice. "…Yeah."

 _That…_

Huh. She hadn't thought of that.

Grinning, he grabbed her by the hand before her thoughts dragged her to the depths.

"Not our problem!" he said cheerfully, and started leading her out of the forest.

Operation Matchmake was complete, and the only thing left for them to worry about was him getting back to work on time. Right?

Right.

* * *

 **A/N: Dunno if I'll upload Chapter 21 next week, when 22 has barely been touched (I need abundant preview quotes at the end in order to post a chapter). But depending on how I'm feeling, HC might... just might... be coming up next? Time and healing will tell. Thank you for being patient.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _The lovely couple being too lovely?"_

" _That's too disgusting to think about."_

" _You know about us?"_

" _She'll need a distraction."_

" _Haven't you distanced yourself from people like her?"_

" _I got them into this mess."_

" _You could easily play a villain."_

[Chapter 21]: **Romantic Repercussions.**


	21. Romantic Repercussions

**A/N: Almost didn't upload this today, but I accidentally convinced Zain I would, so... hey, why not? :)**

 **I'm still a mess (why is my gastro appointment three weeks awaaaaaaay) (I want a neurologist too ffs but no one IRL will listen to me). But this chapter is completed and I actually really like parts of it, and I'm happy to be seeing my counselor soon, so here ya go!**

 **This is going up at noon because the more TPS clues of Yuri's secret before HC Chapter 29, the better.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 21]: Romantic Repercussions_

* * *

There was much to be said for Yuri Nakamura's evil schemes, because it did not take long for school to become Ayato's safe haven again.

No longer did he have a "please kill me now" eye-roll reserved especially for Yuri before going their separate ways for first period. Sometime during the weekend, Ami must've found out she'd lost her two cogs in the matchmaking system, because for three days starting Monday she moped and threw him miffed looks. Betrayed, even insulted.

He simply smirked back at her, took great pleasure in discovering she was the silent treatment type, and sat down for class.

It was glorious.

Not to say he'd eliminated all his troubles in paradise. Kimito was waking him up five minutes earlier than last term, likely a side effect of his summer spoiling. Yes, he'd noticed. It often interrupted his most interesting dreams, scrambling them like static and images on a crappy antenna-powered television.

Pro: it cut off his dream right before he got stabbed in the chest by a red-eyed version of the student body president. Con: he almost had a panic attack from Kimito jabbing him awake.

Aside from that, nothing had changed at home. Grouchy father, meek mother, nothing he wasn't used to.

But at school, he relished in the peace. It would be awful if he'd traded in his old problems for a set of new ones and had to hear lovey-dovey bullshit behind his back, but they'd been relatively quiet in that regard. The only thing he'd been subjected to was the shared looks he sometimes walked in on, Kurimu often leaning on the back of her chair and chatting merrily before class while Hejjiguchi rested his chin in his hand.

Once more classmates or the teacher entered the room, it was over. Quiet studiousness kicked into gear, and most notes passed behind his back were between Kurimu and Ami (who in good time was back to her bubbly self with her friends – she'd just graciously grown tired of _him_ ).

And that was how the next week and a half went. Undisrupted class time, lunch with Yuri, no imbeciles trying to wheedle their way into their routine.

It was… nice.

He savored the last half of September. Some days it would be warm and sunny enough for an outside lunch under their trees. Other days the sky would get almost as dark as his school uniform, and they'd retreat to the club room – but he'd keep the window open, because the humidity in the air smelled so damn good.

One Wednesday, he didn't know what to make of the weather. It had been sprinkling off and on, so he and Yuri had agreed to meet halfway between their classrooms – at a window by a staircase that led almost directly to one of the exits – and try to decide if the bench was worth it. But Yuri was a fast walker, and trotted up to him once he rounded the corner with his lunch. Once he spotted the vending machine at the other end, he understood why.

"Hey," Yuri said, popping the can's lid with a pleasant sizzle. "Hear that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What, your drink?"

"No, the roof," she said impatiently, pointing upwards.

Apparently she had a good ear on her. He followed her finger and, upon closing off most other senses, could detect a faint but steady pelting of rain against roof. Good observing weather, not something he'd want to be caught in with the rest of the school day ahead of him.

"Club room it is." He gestured over his shoulder. "Other way, then."

Yuri took ahold of his wrist. "Nah, shortcut," she said, and led him down a different hallway.

She let go after five seconds, once he'd fallen into step beside her, and marched comfortably past classrooms and speckled windows. Ayato occasionally watched the raindrops race, but there was something he hadn't let go of from summer. Something he'd picked up on, a paranoia that apparently followed him back to the school hallways.

Chatting students obstructed his rainy day habit as they passed in front of the windows on his left. He used to look right through them in the past. Or, more recently, make accidental eye contact. To which he'd delve into his Naoi persona and silently dominate them until they averted their gaze.

But now he was seeing some… resemblance… in regards to the issue at the pool.

Guys stared at Yuri. As irritating as it was to admit it, this was inevitable. It wasn't just the swimsuit, it was probably the slender build and the long legs and the striking green eyes. Well – that wasn't the point. This wasn't about guys finding her attractive. Girls were looking too. And – okay, he wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility that she had female admirers, but the looks weren't like that.

They were passing glances. The same curious recognition he'd seen during the summer. Then reluctant distance, like they didn't want to bother her. Or them.

It always had to be something, didn't it? He could have gone through the rest of high school just fine without this underlying conspiracy theory that kept gnawing at his brain. She'd told him not to worry about hogging her, but still.

Some things are hard to ignore when the metaphorical glass shatters—

"How many hours of sleep are you on?"

"Hmm?" They'd stopped at the corner of a hallway and he hadn't realized it, but Yuri was staring at him expectantly. He shook his head. "It's not that. I just…"

Yuri snorted. "The lovely couple being too lovely?" she asked, before taking a drink.

"They've been merciful," he corrected with a grin. Truth be told, he'd rather talk about this than dwell on insecurities. "I sit right in front of them and I haven't once wanted to scalp myself."

"Oh, what a feat," Yuri said lightly, smiling back. Her smile faded a little bit when she shook her coffee can. "Eh… We may have to go back to a vending machine."

A light scoff from Ayato. "I keep telling you to wait until you start your lunch."

"Some people don't have that kind of willpower!" She jostled her drink some more, then impatiently took his sleeve. "Come on. That's like waiting until the movie starts to get into your popcorn. It simply can't be done."

He took her word for it, and followed her down another short hallway. Luckily there were less people to weed through this time around, most students having gone to the cafeteria or back to their classrooms with their lunches. While Yuri got her precious coffee, he filled her in on "the lovely couple." She took great pride in being reminded of her successful endeavor.

"I'll admit, they've still been fairly considerate," he allowed, propping himself against the wall next to the machine. "They stop making googly eyes at each other when I come in. Today, when Ami said she didn't know when she'd join them for lunch since she had to talk to a theater friend? Not one of them tried to ask me to take her place."

"Oh no," Yuri cooed as she fished a can from the dispenser. "You almost sound left out."

"I think not," said Ayato indignantly. "A front row seat to Kurimu and Hejjiguchi's romantic lunch date? That's too disgusting to think about."

"God, I can see it now." Yuri sat her drink by her feet, then turned to him with comically wide eyes and clasped hands. " _Open up, Hejjiguchi-kun! I made this_ especially _for you!"_

Her sugary sweet, high-pitched imitation was so horrifically accurate he had a hard time not dying on the spot. And he wasn't sure what compelled him, but he replied in a husky voice, complete with a horrible seductive wink, " _Thanks, Kurimu. But where's my dessert?"_

" _Right here."_ Yuri blew him a kiss.

That was what broke him. It started out as a snort, perhaps a girlish squeak, and dissolved into ceaseless howls, both of them desperate for breath as they tried to remain upright. He was in tears; she just about knocked over her drink.

"Don't ever—" he gasped, still wheezing, "don't ever do that agai—"

A hand clamped over his mouth as someone grabbed him from behind. Nearby, someone roughly slid a classroom door open and he felt himself being dragged in that same direction. As he wrestled in his attacker's grip, he heard similar muffled protests from Yuri out in the hall ("My coffee!"). He broke free in time to spin around and see Yuri come flying in after him – but the door quickly shut behind her.

And pressed against the wood with her grip on the handle was a very bug-eyed Kurimu Aoki.

Going by the girl's presence, Ayato had a pretty good feeling who had just manhandled him. He turned back around and gave Hejjiguchi a shove. "What the hell?!"

"You know about us?" Kurimu squeaked.

He turned back to her, but Yuri was already on it. "We kind of saw you once," she said with a shrug.

"Well, nobody can know!" Hejjiguchi said, joining Kurimu at the door. "If _anybody_ finds out, it'll get around to Ami!"

More metaphorical glass shattering. Ayato regarded the pair with narrowed eyes. So that was why they were so well-behaved in class. He should have figured, after what Yuri told him that day about Ami liking Hejjiguchi. Truth was, he'd barely cared enough to remember after an operation well-done.

But for them, forgetting was obviously out of the question.

"Isn't Ami your best friend?" he said, still squinting. "She'll eventually have to know."

Hejjiguchi frowned, genuinely affected.

"I know, but we want to tell her on our own time." He rubbed awkwardly at his neck, which was turning pink. "So can we keep this between the four of us?"

Ayato and Yuri exchanged a look. Hers was knowing, but at the same time her arched brows silently prodded him.

What? He'd already helped the idiot get a girlfriend. Why should he do him any more favors? If he told Ami about their little relationship, the heat would be fully and forever off of him and transferred to Hejjiguchi. Which would be highly entertaining to watch.

And yet… he'd had his fill of classroom drama. Blowing their cover would crank it back up to eleven.

"Alright, fine," he conceded, which earned him two simultaneous sighs of relief. Still, he couldn't let this go without a fun guilt trip. "But Ami's going to get kind of suspicious when two of her best friends keep hanging out without her." He gave them both meaningful looks. "She might even feel left out."

He could've sworn even Kurimu's hair drooped sadly at that. She and Hejjiguchi shared a frown.

"She'll need a distraction."

He looked to Yuri just as quickly as the couple did. Yuri was now sitting on the edge of a desk, actually getting into her lunch. She didn't even bother to look up, somehow sensing their attention as she took a bite of rice.

"Something that'll keep her in a good mood," she continued. "For the time being."

Kurimu made a happy little sound of understanding. "So that she'll be in a good mood when we do tell her about us!" she gasped.

Hejjiguchi stood up straighter, crossing his arms. "What are you thinking, Nakamura?"

What indeed. Ayato looked harder at her, shifting his gaze between Yuri and the dynamic duo. He'd thought they were done meddling in their world after they'd successfully made it so the two would be content to entertain _each other_.

But it seemed Hejjiguchi could pick up on the same thing he did – Yuri was in operation mode.

"I've got a plan," she said, sure enough, and finally raised a glance to the two. "When do you guys have your alone time? Now? Before school? After school?"

"We still eat lunch with Ami," said Hejjiguchi. "She walks to school with us, but she stays after for drama club."

"Our alone time has always been walking home together," Kurimu added. Giving up her post at the door, she sat down at a desk with her lunch. "But now that we're together, we try to come up with excuses for why we can't hang out in the afternoons when we're really on a date." Kurimu picked sadly at her vegetables. "She's already getting suspicious."

"Alright." Yuri swung her legs in thought. "Ayato and I don't hang out in the afternoons too often because—"

He glared at her and cleared his throat. They didn't need to hear his life story.

She caught his look, but merely blinked and continued. "He has a strict schedule when it comes to pottery. My parents enforce a bit of a curfew when they're around, so I might not always be available… but they're not home very often, are they?"

She gave a decisive nod as if punctuating the thought, then hopped off the desk and grinned at her audience.

"I'm gonna start hanging out with Ami while you two go on your little dates."

Mental tire screech.

Kurimu looked up at Yuri, her chopsticks frozen in midair. "You would really do that?"

Oh, Ayato didn't doubt she would do that. There was a hell of a lot of things that he wouldn't put past her. But beyond that, his real question was _why?_ This had nothing to do with them anymore. To willingly involve herself even further, when there were other options…!

"Hang on," he spoke up, still not liking the look of consideration on Yuri's face. "Isn't Ami really popular?"

 _Why do these popular girls never hang out with their other friends?!_

Hejjiguchi fielded this one for her.

"Sure she is, but best friends come first," he said with a shrug. " _Unless_ she has a brand new friend. She loves new friends like she loves new songs."

Then he turned to Yuri, sizing her up. With a stare uncomfortably similar to the ones in the halls.

"But Yuri, I've asked around, and…" He scratched his head, still looking like there were bona fide brain cells rubbing together in that empty mind of his. "I'm just saying, haven't you distanced yourself from people like her? You sure you're up for this?"

Ayato's eyes narrowed. Asking around…

He loathed the idea that Hejjiguchi might know something about Yuri that he didn't. What did he mean by all that? _People like her..._ Most people with sense would distance themselves from people like Ami. Still, the tone Hejjiguchi used had rubbed him the wrong way.

When he looked to Yuri, she seemed for the most unaffected.

"Yeah," she said, indifferent. "It could be fun."

Fun. Not a drop of hesitation or irony in that response. Befriending Ami as a diversion and hanging out with her could be _fun._

Taking her arm, Ayato pulled her farther down the desk aisle for privacy. Then, aside to her, he whispered, "Why do you want to do this?"

"We're the ones who pushed these two together," Yuri whispered back, just as seriously. "What if they weren't ready for this? They shouldn't have to date in secret."

She regarded the couple for a second, then looked back at him with a touch of guilt in her eyes.

"It was my idea to hook them up. I got them into this mess. Thanks to my matchmaking, now they have to worry about upsetting Ami because of me."

Ayato wrinkled his forehead. He didn't like seeing Yuri assign herself any unnecessary guilt. Even something so small could hover over her like a shadowy demon, and she'd just _let_ it. He wasn't sure he wanted to enable this.

"Maybe Ami should just deal with it and learn that some things aren't her business!" he hissed.

"But Kurimu and Hejjiguchi are together because we _made them_ our business!"

"Are we going to be let in on whatever you're whispering about?" asked Hejjiguchi, raising his hand. "I heard our names."

Yuri spun around, while Ayato threw him a brief scowl for being nosy.

"Nope!" she said cheerily, while prodding his arm. "Ayato just wondered if Ami or I should even be meddling in your relationship. But I figure it would be nice to be close friends with another girl."

This brought a smile to Kurimu's face.

"See, that's what I was thinking." She bit her lip, before eyeing the two of them expectantly. "Which was why I was really hoping you and Naoi would go on a double date with us sometime."

Hejjiguchi just about choked on his own tongue. Which would've been infinitely funnier if Ayato weren't on the cusp of reacting that way himself.

Double date! Good God, that meant… oh, of course, they still believed…

That little (no, not so little) white lie Yuri had used to lure Hejjiguchi out there with her. And then, when they both hadn't shown up, they were allegedly off having their own romantic tryst.

Honestly, even if that were true, he'd rather fling himself off the walking bridge than tag along on one of Hejjiguchi's dates.

From the grimace on Hejjiguchi's pale face, he guessed the same was true for him.

"Well I'm afraid that'll be impossible, since I'm unavailable and Yuri will be spending time with Ami," he reminded her, "…and because Yuri and I are not a couple."

"But I'd love to hang out sometime, Kurimu," said Yuri, not unkindly. "Maybe that'll be even more possible when I'm friends with Ami."

The girls shared a smile. Ayato spared Hejjiguchi an awkward glance, but the latter just gave him a knowing kind of grin that made him want to push him into another river.

Once again, he was tangled up in their silly little web.

No, perish the godforsaken thought. He'd leave this operation to Yuri.

After all, it wasn't like a lot was going to change.

* * *

"DRAMA CLUB?!"

Once the school day was over, they'd walked out the school gates into tolerable conditions. The rain had gone from cold fizz to a soothing sprinkle, something they could breathe in, and he was looking forward to walking home in it. But a couple of blocks later, Yuri had told him – in an undeservingly nonchalant fashion – why she would be going right back to school afterwards.

"What?" Yuri said innocently. "Don't you think I could pull it off?"

"Don't get me wrong, you could easily play a villain," Ayato told her, to which she made a face and bumped him. "But I feel like we're in dangerous territory here. Crossing universes we're not meant to. Are you sure you want to join drama club?"

"It's the best way to get in Ami's good graces." Yuri was very matter-of-fact about it as she led the way up the crosswalk. Then, with a laugh, "And quite possibly the most fun."

"Famous last words," muttered Ayato, picturing Ami hanging off Yuri's arm and squealing like a tea kettle.

Yuri harrumphed, but adjusted the strap of her bag. "Tell you what. If I'm in a play, you can make fun of me all you want."

He rubbed his chin. "You're bluffing, but I'll consider it."

"Anyway, I might not even have to act." She kicked at a puddle along the sidewalk. "Lights, sound, whatever. I'm pretty tech-savvy, so they could find a way to use me."

He hesitated for a second, wondering if this didn't sound a little like a pep-talk for herself. A thought from earlier in the day crept into his mind, a possible reason behind her behavior, and followed him for three minutes.

"Yuri," he said carefully, as they were approaching the fork in the road by the forest. "What did he mean when he said you've been distancing yourself from people like Ami?"

It would take someone with eyes as keen as his, but he saw a jolt in her step. A flicker of something. He could only compare to… inwardly getting hit by a ruler.

And then she said it.

"That's…" she swallowed, side-eyeing him, "part of our 'no questions asked' deal."

He closed his eyes, breathing in sharply through his nose. He'd expected her to say that, and somehow believed he could will her not to. And then she did. And somehow, pumping himself up like that, made the impact feel like a wasp sting to the brain.

She was allowed to keep things to herself. He'd give her that. But the goddamn wench had told him a lot of things on the first and second days they got to know each other. _Hi, here's what my parents do. Here's how my little siblings died. My mom and dad neglect me. Let's be friends!_ Five months later and, what, she trusted him _less_ with her secrets?

"Fine," he said, thinking of his mundane ceramic mug.

It was fine. Really. Not a big deal. He wouldn't start shit over it. It was just… grating against his nerves, giving him a bad vibe. But vibes could be wrong. They were when he trusted his mother.

His duty to respecting boundaries could overpower his desire for knowledge. Besides that, she'd tell him when she was comfortable.

So it was fine. And he told her goodbye, and wished her good luck on the drama club mission.

And he bit his damn tongue when Kimito yelled at him for throwing too fast and pressuring the clay into deformity.

Really, it was fine.

* * *

 **A/N: Like I said last time (I did, didn't I?), Chapter 22 isn't written out very much. I'll edit this chapter when I have more preview lines to add!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Where the hell did my recruiting skills go?!_ _"_

 _"Recruiting skills...?"_

 _"I wasn't asking you to join."_

 _"This is your operation, not mine."_

 _"I already made a heartfelt promise."_

[Chapter 22]: **Drama Brewing.**


	22. Drama Brewing

**A/N: Hey, it's me! After three months! Theoretically I could publish HC chapter 30 soon since Chapter 31 is done. And I might. But today is Harry Potter Day and I've been picking away at TPS to get to a pausing point because fleshing out the past makes it easier to write HC. If I get to that certain point, I might actually publish TPS twice a week so I can move on to HC sooner rather than later.**

 **Also, I'm gonna be completely honest with you guys: this might become a cursed cesspool of OCs soon if it isn't already. But what can I say? The Battlefront is kind of spread out through different high schools, and Naoi and Yuri aren't in a bubble. So I'm gonna have to play with their classmates for a while. Also I love my terrible Akuma children.**

 **Well, enough rambling about that. Feel free to point out any inconsistencies if you remember my story better than I do. My dear writing brain isn't as young as it once was.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 22]: Drama Brewing_

* * *

On Friday, Yuri's newest operation was not going well. She arrived late to lunch and plopped down on the stone bench with an aggravated sigh.

"Still no luck!" she lamented, smacking her forehead. "Where the hell did my recruiting skills go?"

She'd filled him in Thursday morning on how the drama club thing had fared. Ami had been surprised to see Yuri, but thrilled at the prospect of gaining a new member. According to her, they only had eight members. Adding Yuri to the group would bring it up to nine. It was there they ran into a problem. Ami and her theater friends carefully minded superstition and didn't want their member count to be the number for pain and suffering.

So what did Yuri do? Back out? Tell Kurimu and Hejjiguchi "tough luck"?

Nope, she wrangled herself in even further – she promised Ami she would recruit someone else and make it ten. Ami's reaction had been remarkably squealy. In fact, they had talked on the phone a lot that night, which was why she hadn't updated him at the time via walkie-talkie.

Ayato still could not fathom why she put herself through this.

Instead of making that comment again (for the twentieth time, he'd admit), he elected to go in another direction. "Recruiting skills…?"

She hesitated when she heard exactly what he was asking. A weird little breath caught in the back of her throat, then she busied herself with her bento box.

"Had to use them in gymnastics," she explained, rather quickly. "New members, friends to come watch our competitions. I'm usually persuasive, but nobody in my class wants to join the stupid drama club!" She bit angrily into a piece of chicken.

"No…" Ayato said sarcastically, taking a swig of juice.

She looked aside to him, hopeful. "Will you—"

"No."

"I wasn't asking you to join," Yuri whined. "I just need you to—"

"To recruit." He rolled his eyes very prominently at her. "Ami is in my class. If there was anyone who had even an inkling of wanting to join, she would have hounded them by now."

Yuri grudgingly sipped her drink. "You don't know that. I don't think she's the recruiting type—"

"And neither am I," he said coolly. "We agreed, this is your operation. Not mine."

She looked at him for a second, chewing the inside of her mouth, then sighed again in defeat and returned to her lunch.

He felt a little remorse for being unhelpful, but… this wasn't something he wanted to be involved in. The whole point of the first operation was to get disentangled from the troublesome trio, and now she'd worked them back in? Herself, mainly, but him by association. Just because he also knew about the couple's dirty little secret didn't mean they were suddenly good friends.

Kurimu was a nice girl, but he could very much do without Hejjiguchi pretending like the last few months never happened. The idiot could be friends with Yuri all he liked, know her secrets, but that friendship did not extend further.

"So," he said, still feeling guilty after he'd finished most of his meal, "is Ami still letting you stay and watch?"

Yuri brightened, which in turn lifted his spirits.

"Yep. Just for a couple of days, but after that I figure I can do homework until the club lets out." She scooted back towards the mulch, further into the shade. "Hey, if you buy yourself a pair of ear plugs, Ami's not that bad. Did you know she's into tarot cards?"

His eyes rolled back into his sockets. "Even crazier than I thought."

"You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that?"

"Almost six months you've known me," said Ayato with a sniff. "My sarcasm's never been any real secret."

"That's true." Yuri closed her eyes, resting her head against a tree trunk. He had to hand it to Yuri; in her better moods, she took his backtalk with considerable grace.

"Anyway, why are you bothering?" he asked, genuinely curious. "If she's already talking to you after school and wanting to hang out, wasn't that the point? This recruitment business seems like an unnecessary evil."

"It was my way in," she argued. "I already made a heartfelt promise. It would be too suspicious if I suddenly lost interest."

He harrumphed, but he'd give her that.

"Besides," Yuri reasoned, reaching for her coffee, "if I'm part of the drama club, it's an excuse for us to hang out after meetings. Now, unless she invites me over, my attempts to divert her would come off as 'creepy clingy stalker.'"

He raised a finger and started to open his mouth—

"You don't need to say it." Her eyes were still closed.

He grinned. Good point, too easy.

But really, he could do with a lot less of all this Ami talk that had sprung up as of this week. At this rate, it was easier to pretend the girl didn't exist when he was in the same class as her. She was more tolerable now that she had nothing to do with him. Was it too much to ask to keep it that way?

"I know, I'm boring you," Yuri groaned as if reading his mind, using her free hand to rub her temples. "But I'm floundering here. And I'm humble enough to admit I need a partner for this operation."

Ayato hummed in mock sympathetic interest. "Let me know when you find one."

Another groan. Yuri met his flippancy with a scoff and crossed legs as she angled away from him. "What kind of attitude is that? Now I'm thinking our world domination plan was just words to you."

"That's a completely different situation," said Ayato, burying his rolled eyes into his skull. "Ami can rule drama club. I don't care about drama club – she _knows_ that. It would be too suspicious and make no sense. Why would _I_ suddenly care about recruiting new members? Why would I do anything that would help her?"

"Because she knows you're my friend!" Yuri griped.

He bit the inside of his lip hard, willing away the sharp answer his brain almost compelled him to fire back. He glanced at his watch. Almost time to go back to class.

"Your friend, not hers," he said after a second. "I'm done, so I'm heading back. But you should go ask one of those girls by the fountain."

"Anything wrong?" Yuri asked, raising a brow.

Standing up with his empty bento box in hand, he tossed a dismissive wave over his shoulder. "I'm just done, and you're not. Understandable since you were late. But I've got to get to class." Where Kurimu and Hejjiguchi talked less about Ami than she did.

"Okay," Yuri said warily. The unspoken knowledge that they usually savored a free period's every last minute trailed behind him like a sheet of toilet paper under his shoe. "Later."

Later. Not "after school," he noted silently as he entered the building. That was up in the air until they escaped the purgatory that was Yuri's latest mission. Granted, it was endearing the way her eyes would light up when she said "operation," but that could only do so much for his patience. And it got old pretty fast when it was all she could focus on.

So she'd be watching over drama club or talking to Ami after school, and he'd be walking home alone. Which, considering the probability of a certain conversation topic, didn't seem so bad to him on second thought.

Maybe he could use the reprieve.

He shook his head as he rounded the corner and neared his classroom. Was he… making too big a deal out of this? The "operation" had only been going on for two, three days tops. It just felt longer because _frankly_ it bored him. But other than her recruiting difficulties, Yuri seemed to be having fun. She might even be in a school play. Ayato snorted at the thought. A slight grin touched his lips.

Yuri, in a play. He could see it – it was laughable in the fact that it was not so laughable. She had a dramatic flair that was different from Ami's. More charming, more natural. If Ami had any sense, she'd snub superstition and let her join. Even if that meant…

A few students were already in class when he showed up, but they didn't spare him a second glance as he returned to his seat. Content with the invisibility, he stared out the window and took the opportunity to brood in silence.

He could handle walking home alone a few more days. He'd done it for years. It wasn't a huge sacrifice to wander the forest path in nature's solitude while Yuri made a new friend. Despite her reassurances back during summer break, he would probably be doing her a favor.

They still had the walkie-talkies. And morning walks, and lunch. He just hoped that during those times they'd steer most of their conversations to something less maddening. Was this what people did when they had no particular direction in life?

Still, even if he didn't have better things to do, he wasn't sure he'd ever understand this hyper-fixation—

"Naoi, you're here early!"

His head shot up from his palm, and he glanced toward the door as Ami strode into the classroom followed by Hejjiguchi and Kurimu. She propped herself up on the edge of her desk, letting her shoes sway a couple of inches off the ground. A bit too easygoing and familiar for his tastes. And just over a week ago she'd been peeved at him – classic drama queen Kawata.

God, she probably did think they were friends now. He met her cheerful appraising stare with stony silence, hoping she'd correct herself.

Undeterred, Ami smiled amiably at him.

"Don't worry, Kurimu and I forgive you for standing her up," she said, waving a hand in the air dismissively like a magic wand. Poofing away the apology he didn't remember giving her. "She and Hejjiguchi explained everything."

Ayato eyed the secret couple skeptically. "They did?"

"Yeah!" He nursed his ear; Ami had an exceedingly perky voice. "And as a hopeless romantic, I completely understand." She laid a hand over her heart. "I know where your heart truly lies. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew all along."

That didn't sound too good. The way she'd phrased it… In fact, her metaphorical heart-eyes sent an unpleasant chill up his spine. Fighting an inward cringe, he shot a glare at Kurimu and Hejjiguchi standing behind her. The couple, sweating slightly, gave him a wincing shrug that reeked of feeble apology.

They wouldn't... Convincing her of something like that? They couldn't be _that_ stupid—!

"Well," he muttered, stupidly and on the spot. "I—"

"So how long have you and Yuri been friends, anyway?" Ami chirped.

"What?" He blinked at her, once again rather thrown. It was a good thing he wasn't trying to get into her ridiculous club because apparently when up against her, he wasn't great at improv. "Six months, but why—"

Oh. _Oh._

Right.

He glared at Kurimu and Hejjiguchi again as they fell into their seats behind him. Still, he would grant them, it was far better than what his mind had just jumped to. As long as the fictional budding romance kept her at bay. And yet if she thought he liked Yuri, and she was becoming _friends_ with Yuri, with his luck this would terribly backfire.

No, no. He elected not to think about that. He was done getting roped into the romantic weavings of high school drama. Meanwhile, Yuri could use her position as the shiny new friend to talk her out of any foolish thoughts. An admitted benefit of recent circumstances.

"Hello? Earth to Naoi!"

He didn't care much for the nail-polished fingers snapping in his face, but it did the trick. He raised an eyebrow, reminding her that his attention was a privilege. "What?"

"I was asking you where Yuri is," Ami sniffed, having lost a fragment of her cheer. Of course, he should have known better than to zone out during a performance. "I'd kind of hoped to run into her before class. Didn't she walk you back? I never saw her in the hall."

He rested his chin in his palm again; if there was one thing a thespian hated it was a bored audience.

"She was a little late to lunch," he replied. "But if she's still outside, she's probably busy recruiting for your beloved drama club."

"Oh, that's right! She is so great," Ami cheered, evidently skipping over his sarcasm. She hopped off her desk, plopped into her seat, and fished her cell phone out of her purse. "That's okay. I'll just text her about it."

Then, her fingertips paused over the keypad, and she looked up with a tiny hopeful glint.

"Wait a minute. Naoi-kun," she said, her voice dipped in fly-baiting honey. "Haven't you thought of joining drama club with her?"

Ayato turned to face her, with his honest and heartfelt answer. "I would rather gouge both my eyes out."

Blinking, Ami reared back in her seat as if he'd flicked her forehead. "A simple 'no' would've sufficed!" she said, with another aggrieved sniff.

A chuckle from the back. "Nah, Ami, sounds like he's just auditioning for Oedipus."

Ayato shot a look over his shoulder, in time to see Hejjiguchi laughingly flinch at a backwards kick from a giggling Kurimu. He caught Ayato's look and shrugged his innocence.

"What? You might like it!" he said with a wink. "Wait till you find out what happens to the dad."

Ayato snapped his head back around and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. Inwardly, he cursed himself for almost laughing. And Hejjiguchi for causing it, twice over if he'd heard the snort.

It was just as he'd feared. These idiots were getting way too familiar.

And somehow that thought was even more unnerving than the pool and hallway stares.

* * *

Like yesterday, Yuri didn't walk home with him. Today he didn't wait for her.

That was fine. Despite September's end, the city still clung tightly to the remaining rays of summer's warmth. However, some of the trees knew enough to start decorating themselves in colorful fall finery, so there was a pleasant autumn balance. He'd say one thing in Akuma's favor – it certainly knew how to bring out the magic in early October.

Alright, so perhaps he'd rather not enjoy it alone.

Still, he reasoned, it wasn't as if he had to do too much adjusting. He'd walked this path alone for six years. How much of a difference could six months do to his system?

Maybe there were even perks. He hadn't realized how much he and Yuri talked when she was with him, but it must have been enough to mute all forest sounds or scare off the birds. In her absence, and his soft steps, birds trilled to each other from the treetops. Ayato narrowed his eyes – had they always been that shrill, or had he forgotten? A low, drawn out whistle from deep inside the forest signaled the presence of a lonely male deer. One clearly eager to get the autumn rut underway.

Ayato rolled his eyes. He'd never noticed it before, but a large part of nature was just lecherous animals wailing for their mates. He picked up the pace, kicking at fallen red leaves along the way. Beautiful but still too fresh to crunch. Dark red against green grass, a pretty combination. He thought of Yuri.

But feeling her absence was silly. As if it was summer vacation all over again. They'd walk to school together on Monday morning like they'd done every school day for the past few months and that would be that. So he ignored the slight pang in his chest and carried on down the path.

The workshop came into view quickly, as deadlines often did when he wasn't prepared to meet them. He checked his watch when Kimito didn't immediately come barreling out, and both his eyebrows lifted. He even stifled a snort. Unbelievable, the time he'd saved. By the expression on Kimito's face when he heard the door creak and glanced back up, he was thinking approximately the same thing.

"Go in and get started," Kimito said, turning his back on him and heading towards the house. "I'll be in shortly."

Ayato snorted again once the man was out of earshot, this time at himself. What had he expected, a pat on the back for being early? He really was spending too much time with Yuri.

 _What are you laughing about?_ said the irritable voice in his head. _Having extra time to spend with Kimito?_

And just like that, his smirk faded.

"Kick me while I'm down, why don't you," he muttered to himself, and stepped into the workshop before slamming the door shut behind him.

Kimito rejoined him a few minutes later, after helping himself to the lunch Mother just made. And no, he didn't think to bring Ayato any, because _who did he think he was, a catering service?_ Since there was no right answer to that, Ayato continued throwing a bowl in silence.

Or, rather, trying to. The clay wasn't cooperating with him this afternoon. It deformed clumsily in his grip like an animal of prey playing dead, slopping everywhere in a mess he would have to clean up. He growled under his breath when the material flubbed for the fifth time in a row.

"Stop throwing so fast!" Kimito barked, echoing his growl. He'd been far from subtle in his frequent aggravated glances. "What, do you have your foot tied to the pedal? Slow down as it takes shape or your hands ruin everything!"

Ayato could have smacked himself in the forehead as he obeyed. "Yes sir."

"You learned that years ago. A rookie mistake and you know it," he muttered, as if reading his thoughts. "I knew school was pushing things out of your brain. And don't put so much pressure on the clay."

 _Too much pressure… who are you to talk?_ The scoff bounced around dangerously on his tongue until he bit it into submission. His brain was already getting him in enough trouble as it was. Far be it from him to agree with anything Kimito said, but where was his head? At school? In Yuri's backpack?

Would Yuri reach into a pocket and show it to Ami like, "Oh look, Naoi's sanity!" (To which Ami would reply, "Can I play with it?")

Despite all his years of wisdom, Ayato snickered bitterly at the thought.

Kimito stared at him, white-faced and twitching jaw. "You think this is funny." Not a question, but a statement. A warning.

"Not you, sir." He wracked whatever percentage of his brains that was present, scanning for a quick fix. "I was laughing at myself. In disappointment."

"You think you're real smart, don't you." Kimito was doing that flared bull-snorting nostril thing again. "Or that I'm just stupid?"

Trick question. He hated those. But his father obviously loved them, and utilized their almost surefire way of backing a victim into a corner whenever possible.

Ayato lowered his eyes.

"A Naoi doesn't raise a fool," he said after a minute, turning his gaze to the bowl again. He relaxed his foot on the pedal, allowing the pottery wheel to slow to a reasonable speed.

A grunt from Kimito. From the sound of it, he was somewhere between placated and annoyed. Using his own words against him was a gamble to be sure. The trick was to disguise the sass so that it fell just beneath the man's radar. Or time it at a point where he had better things to do than take the time to interpret it as sass and punish it thusly.

More often than not, Kimito would remember to deliver the repercussions later. But it bought him a grace period to brace himself for it.

Kimito got up from his station and headed to the sink to wash up. After a few moments, the faucet in the back gave a rusty squeak, and Ayato made the mistake of glancing over as his mentor sat back down.

He had his favored handkerchief-type washcloth with him, a faded burnt-orange cloth that gave Ayato an ingrained spinal chill whenever it flashed into sight. Most of the time it was used the way it was presently, for wiping clay off his fingers and out of his nails. Other times, the stains that riddled the fabric were less beige-colored and more cerise or burgundy. He had a way of cleaning his hands as pristinely as an assassin might when polishing a blade. Ayato usually got the feeling that this gesture was laced with a threat.

"That's what my father taught me," Kimito said, breaking the silence as he scrubbed at his wrist. He checked his nails for residue; then, with a grunt of affirmation, he draped his cloth on a stool within arm's reach. "He put up with far less from me than I do with you. I'm sure he'd say I'm too easy on you."

Ayato bit his cheek to keep from snorting.

"'A Naoi doesn't raise a fool.' He learned those words from his father, and he told me every time I disappointed him that he'd be damned if he was the weak link in the chain." Kimito wet his fingers in his bowl of slip, then looked to him with a raised brow. "Are we going to be the weak links, Ayato?"

"No, sir."

"No," Kimito affirmed. "Ours is a legacy of hard work and thick skin. That's the makings of a Naoi. Do you remember what I always say about hard work?"

Ayato furrowed his forehead – not in memory, but in consideration. When Kimito bothered to be chatty, he talked _at_ him as he was doing now, but it was rare that it was conversational rather than berating. Was he in a fair mood or something? Maybe he'd noticed his punctuality after all.

"That it's not talent," he answered. "It takes practice and training. And… good results show good character."

"And good dedication," said Kimito. He harrumphed then, carving a thin line into a vase with a scraper. "The only gifts in the Naoi family are discipline and wisdom. People who say things like 'talented' or 'gifted' are the kind of people who say 'follow your heart.' But hearts are weak and make stupid mistakes, so we all learned to follow our minds instead. Lo and behold – a Naoi has never raised a fool."

And again, he gave Ayato an expectant look. One that read something between _not yet anyway_ and _you'll prove me wrong._

"The moral here is, don't leave your brain at school." Kimito shook his head as he returned his concentration to his current project. "It must be the case, since you managed to get home at a reasonable time today. I've wondered what keeps you. That brain of yours must be so heavy it slows you down."

Ayato said nothing. If he disagreed, he had to provide the real reason. If he agreed, he was consenting to being mocked. Another one of Kimito's prized tactics. Strangely he couldn't even muster the will or energy to daydream a comeback.

It was impossible to leave one's brain somewhere, a concept only thought and done by dreamers and fools. And yet… he really didn't feel like himself today.

But he was a Naoi, so he summoned his mind home to him and quietly—carefully—kept sculpting his bowl.

In fact, he was so focused that he wasn't sure how long the silence lasted before Kimito broke it once more with another harrumph.

"And I'd started to think it was because you were goofing around with friends," he said roughly. "That Nakamura girl, whose party you went to in July. Is she one of them?"

Ayato almost stomped his foot pedal into the floorboards.

"Nakamura? Yuri?" He gulped, swallowing his tongue in an attempt not to sputter. "No, that… that was just a one-time thing."

Kimito's eyes narrowed thinly in sharp skepticism. The man had a built-in lie detector, and it was getting harder to beat. "So she came by and gave you an invitation, and you spent the entire workday at her party, but the two of you aren't friends."

Ayato winced inwardly, thinking fast.

"Her parents might've suggested she invite me," he said. "We aren't in the same class or anything. I see her between classes and lunch, but we don't hang out much these days."

It was enough of not-entirely-a-lie for Kimito to look only slightly unconvinced and fall quiet with a resounding huff. The truth of it, however, rebounded and hit Ayato with surprise.

They _didn't_ hang out as much these days. Not just compared to summer. She was already spending their after-school walk time with Ami, and would continue to do so until this operation was resolved. And she had been late to lunch, and he'd walked out on her early.

He really shouldn't have done that. Not when their time together was dwindling. For God's sake, it had been limited enough to begin with—!

"So that's not where you spent summer break," Kimito muttered. Another harrumph fell into the neck of the budding vase, this one sounding more like his detached self. "Guess she got bored of you."

The way he said it was so nonplussed. So unimpressed. Ayato would feel insulted if he wasn't so relieved it was that easy to convince Kimito he didn't have any friends to speak of. After all, he had spent the summer out of the—

Wait a minute, _bored?_

Kimito caught his eye and laughed. Never a jolly sound or a belly laugh; just a scratchy, sandpaper-like "huh huh huh" with a perpetual condescending edge. Mother had once described him as having a "dusty throat," because no matter how often someone heard it, it always seemed like the prelude to a coughing fit.

"Women are fickle in that way, Hayato," he said. "Especially rich ones. The Nakamuras are hard workers, but they don't make their girl do the same because she's their only little princess and they'd feel guilty not showering her with love. That's the kind of mistake you make when you're a 'follow your heart' person. That's the kind of child you raise."

He gave a decisive nod, as if punctuating his great words of wisdom with his stamp of approval.

"She lives in luxury and always gets nice new things, so her attention span is limited. Always looking for something new to play with. But then…" His derisive sneer gave way to another dusty laugh. "Then the paint wears off. The novelty's gone. And now you're just the potter's son."

Ayato frowned but chose the safe route of working rather than responding. He wasn't about to correct him on his name; being seen as Hayato explained the man's almost tolerable demeanor. Tolerable, but fleeting.

What else was there to say? That he was wrong, that Yuri had more stability than that and would always be there for him? That they'd been best friends for the past half-year and nothing about that was going to change?

He wasn't a fool. He was a Naoi. He was the potter's son. So, trusting his mind, he kept working on his pottery. From then on he was mercifully left alone with his thoughts.

Or perhaps not so merciful.

His mind, having already proven itself untrustworthy today, procured thoughts about what Kimito had said. Thoughts that lingered even after the two of them went in for dinner, and bit at his brain during homework. And a most unwelcome memory of something Hejjiguchi had mentioned just this week.

" _Best friends come first._ Unless _she has a brand new friend. She loves new friends like she loves new songs!"_

Ayato rubbed at his temples with a sigh. Hejjiguchi's voice in his head was annoying even on a good day. But something similarly and universally irritating, or so he'd found, was any new song that got played to death on the radio. It got old quickly, an overly polished car that lost its shine.

He shook away the analogy and hit himself in the forehead. Honestly, what was he thinking? Taking his father's and Hejjiguchi's words to heart… Today was an off day for him, truly. Just looking at his half-finished homework sheet was enough evidence of that. So many eraser marks. With one fell swipe, he knocked them off his desk.

And when his fingertips caught the antenna, the walkie-talkie went flying with them.

Very smooth.

He swiveled his chair and stared blankly at the device laying there on the floor, contemplating the dangers of his own temporary stupidity. Then he bent and picked it back up. Maybe hearing Yuri's voice would smack some sense into him.

Clicking it into power mode, he pressed the talk button. "Yuri, you there? Are you back yet?"

Fuzz.

He waited. Pressed the talk button again.

"Yuri?"

He waited some more.

Dead static.

It took five minutes of this before he had the sense to give up and swivel back to his desk. He left it on for an hour after that, then allowed it to charge while he spent the rest of his homework break (before Kimito inevitably dragged him back downstairs for who knows how long) lying in bed staring up at the cracks in the ceiling.

This was why he needed a cell phone, needed to save up for one. He'd never needed one before now, because like Kimito had delicately pointed out he didn't really have friends to call. But at least with a phone, Yuri would actually know he'd tried to get hold of her. She was probably using hers now – speedily tapping a text to Ami, or, if she was still with her, swiping through photos or showing her cat videos or whatever girls liked to giggle about.

Ayato closed his eyes, willing the thought out of his head.

This was ridiculous. Why was he still allowing this to get to him? Why at all? Just because, yes, the drama club was a new thing she was getting excited about —

and this operation —

and the operation before that —

He growled to himself. No, he was a thing and not a person. He _knew_ Yuri knew that. He knew Yuri far better than Kimito could ever pretend to. And Yuri… she made friends with Hejjiguchi before the summer, and that didn't change anything between them.

Of course, that was a few months ago, and maybe it made a difference that she he and Hejjiguchi were both her guy friends. She did say it would be nice to be friends with another girl…

But Yuri wasn't the type of person to get bored of someone, or just dump a best friend… was she?

In the haze of his daydreams, a vague face and auburn hair flickered into view. His eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up in bed.

No. His suspicions were just getting to him. Try as he might with his racing thoughts, he still didn't know the answer to that one. And apparently she wouldn't be giving it to him anytime soon. It was like… like she didn't tell him secrets the way she used to when they first met. Like pouring out her heart was only exciting at the beginning, and relating to the traumatized, troubled potter's boy had lost its appeal.

He scoffed at first, but the thought settled in like a thick layer of grime.

Was that it? Were Kimito and Hejjiguchi right?

Had the novelty of his and Yuri's friendship finally worn off?

* * *

 **A/N: I'll do my best to get back into the swing of things and get some writing done. R &R!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I figured you'd be hanging out with Kawata."_

" _Fear of Kimito turned out in your favor."_

" _Fraternizing with the enemy?"_

" _She's all we ever hear about."_

" _I trusted your judgment!"_

" _Just trying to help…"_

[Chapter 23]: **Vain Attempts.**


	23. Vain Attempts

**A/N: I hope you like long chapters because this one is the last chapter you'll see in this arc that's under 4400 words. :)**

 **Also, Chapter 24 will be out on Monday because that's the 13th and therefore the third anniversary of my NaYuri shooting star wish(es). I kind of credit that meteor shower for the origins of Heartbreak Cure.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 23]: Vain Attempts_

* * *

"Hey, did you have your walkie talkie turned off all weekend or something?" Yuri asked when she trotted up to their fork in the path on Monday morning.

Her hair swung from side to side in a light ponytail as she jogged to meet him, not a hairstyle he often saw on her. It took some of the bangs out of her eyes and made the curious glint in them that much more noticeable.

He eyed her nails before answering. They were red and kind of matched her hair, but more closely resembled Ami's favorite headband.

"Yeah, my dad heard a lot of static in my room on Friday night," he said truthfully. Yuri immediately nodded in understanding. "He started getting snoopy, so I turned it off to be safe." Then he gave her a look he carefully muted. "Besides, I figured you'd be hanging out with Kawata."

Her eyebrow lifted a little at his use of Ami's surname. "On the weekend? A couple of times, yeah. You know she _is_ still friends with Kurimu and Hejjiguchi, and they do still want to hang out with her."

"Can't imagine why," said Ayato. Yuri threw a hand to her mouth to cover a giggle, and his demeanor softened a little. He missed that sound. "Anyways, you could've found me at the store. I worked a lot this weekend."

Yuri let a small grin creep over her face as they started a leisurely pace into town.

"Oh, I figured." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "The one time I actually hung out with the three of them? You'll love this. Kurimu said the only person missing here was you, and I told her that odds are you were working. So she suggested we drop by to pay you a visit."

"God, no," Ayato said in despair.

They both laughed, shaking their heads at the very thought. "Yeah, didn't think you'd like that too much," said Yuri. "I shut it down pretty quickly."

"I owe you my life."

"Not really, I just reminded them that your dad doesn't like loitering." She waved his thanks away dismissively. "For once, fear of Kimito turned out in your favor."

He pondered this as they passed a crosswalk. A validation that classmates were scared of him because of his father. Was that a plus?

…Yeah. In this case, sure, he'd take it.

But his annoying voice still took the opportunity to chime in, _so she does only hang out with other people when you're not around. And she doesn't want you around when she's with other people._

 _Don't be stupid,_ he told himself. _She was just being considerate._

The voice had gotten louder and more persistent over the weekend, so much so that Ayato was grateful for work on Saturday when people actually came into his store. Or when Kimito barked at him for some reason or another, interrupting absurd thought processes and conspiracy theories. At night it was a free-for-all, so coupled with waking up five minutes earlier than last term, sleep-wise he was running on fumes.

But it was fine, really. When his sleep deprivation was bad, it was evident. He'd know by Yuri's concerned glances every couple of minutes to scope out the bags under his eyes.

At least the fruits of his semi-sleepless labor was this: he resolved to stop making a castle out of a box. It was his problem stemming from his wild imagination. If here were any changes to their friendship it would be due to his negativity, and starting today he was going to snap out of it.

So he graciously endured a couple minutes of Ami talk. Apparently Friday had been Yuri's last trial run day of sitting in on the club, so that eliminated her excuse for still being at school when Ami got out. She revealed to him that Kurimu had secretly been waiting after school and watching Hejjiguchi run track so he could walk her home afterwards. Now, Yuri would have to let them know that she couldn't distract and detour Ami anymore to keep them from being seen.

"Why don't you just use the time to look for recruits?" he asked absently, closing his eyes and listening for the sounds he heard the other day. Not as loud, but still there.

 _Stupid,_ his inner voice interrupted. _She could've gone back to walking home with you._

But Yuri cocked her head at him. "At school? Anyone still there probably already has another activity to go to."

Ayato shrugged. "Homework, detention, library?" _Stupid!_

Yuri looked thoughtful. "Good point. And that's right, I forgot about that. I could just be there for homework too."

"Stalker," he coughed. She laughed and elbowed him.

They made it into town, passing cafés and food stands. He was tempted to stop their trek to treat Yuri to a quick coffee or something. From the looks of things they were going to be early, and Kimito had paid him his wages this weekend so the money was burning a hole in his pocket. But he wasn't sure what she would think of that. Plus she was currently so deep into a conversation topic pertaining in no way to the troublesome trio (raving about a dream she had involving some girl slashing male students with scissors) that he wanted to keep the momentum going.

"—and I never remember the whole dream, which is really annoying, but a few interesting concepts stick."

"I have those," he sympathized. "Like bits and pieces of dialogue in a channel of static."

"Exactly!" She shook her head in dismay. "Something must've gotten lost in translation. Because, I mean, in my dream she'd been attacking a bunch of my guy friends, and she'd just gotten through telling me her evil plans to kill any man. And I basically told her, hey, you should join my warfront."

He instantly snorted. "Fraternizing with the enemy? That does sound like you."

Yuri's stride slowed, and her raised eyebrow could have cut concrete. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Nothing. You're the most loyal friend there is," Ayato said dryly. This time her elbow wasn't so playful. "Ow! Bruise!"

She blinked, as if he'd said a code word that washed the irritation from her face. "Sorry."

The air between them suddenly became about as comfortable as a date night between his parents, so he coughed a little and elected to change the subject.

"I think the more obvious interpretation is, you're thinking about recruiting so much it's leaked into your sleep." He gave her a careful look. "It doesn't even seem like an Ami thing. Why are you so into it?"

 _Or,_ he thought, recalling their Friday talk and the mention of gymnastics, _are you not going to tell me about that too?_

Yuri seemed to contemplate this for a second.

"It's not an Ami thing; I've told you I had to get people to join a team before," she said, with a slight drip of impatience in her voice. Then she softened again. "I've had a few dreams like that one where I'm trying to get new members for some kind of school club, so I guess that's why."

"You mentioned a warfront," he reminded her. That aspect had deeply amused him for some reason. Yuri with guns – he liked the mental picture.

"That's right." Yuri grinned, albeit vaguely. "Maybe I should be a military recruiter."

Ayato laughed. "So you do have future plans. That's good."

They approached the school gates, him still ribbing her about sending one half of their school to drama club and the other half to war, and then Yuri stopped and looked at the clock on her phone.

"We're actually kind of early today," she said, regarding the campus thoughtfully. "Maybe I can get someone before class. Students who actually hang out at school early are probably more interested in after-school activities than kids who are just trying to eat their lunch." She snapped her fingers. "Sound logic. It's brilliant!"

"Inspired," Ayato said coolly. He pointed toward a huge tree near the center of the campus, where a group of guys were scaling it and dangling from the branches like they seemed to do almost every morning. "Why don't you go ask one of them?"

A thoughtful hum from Yuri. "Good idea, they look like they have nothing better to do."

One guy throwing fruit at a particular branch finally knocked his yellow-haired friend out of the tree so that his legs were sticking up in the air like a headstand. Visibly impressed, Yuri took it as an opportunity and broke into a brisk trot. Then she looked over her shoulder, frowned, and headed back.

"What?" Ayato scoffed. "You chickened out?"

"Of course not." She took his wrist and pulled him along. "Don't just stand here, you're coming with me!"

"That's the last thing you want!" he complained, carefully twisting his hand to break free without giving himself whiplash.

Yuri barely looked back at him and his squirming efforts. "What are you talking about?"

"I told you I'm not going to do any recruiting—"

"You don't have to! Just come with me so I don't look like a lunatic!"

"Well—"

"Do yourself a favor and don't say it."

Ayato smiled at this enough to distractedly follow, even with a freed wrist. Two guys were still hanging out in the branches, while two others were pushing the yellow-haired guy's upturned legs back and forth. Presumably to see who would drop him first. Ayato had to hand it to them, the headstand guy was very patient and the others were easily amused.

"Hi guys," Yuri said cheerfully.

 _THUNK._ In regards to that leg-tossing contest, Ayato would call it a tie. Bleach-head was still on the ground recovering from his topple, but even he managed to clear his throat and run a hand through his hair at the same time as his buddies.

"Hey, Nakamura," said one of the leg-tossers. He had black hair and rectangle glasses, and dipped them slightly in an obvious attempt to look cool. "Something we can help you with?"

They were giving Yuri more "bikini" stares than hallway stares, but Ayato still didn't like it. Nor did he like the way they'd briefly scoped him out. Like a bug they hoped would soon scuttle away. He managed to subtly nudge Yuri a few steps to the left, because he had a feeling the blondie would try to look up her skirt. How convenient – now his cleats were closer to the guy's head.

"Yeah, actually." Yuri put her hands on her hips, a real go-getter pose. "Any of you boys interested in joining the drama club?"

This resulted in a mutual, "Aaaaaaaagh….!"

Not the sound Yuri wanted to hear, as the boys went from slicking their hair back to clutching it in distress.

"Come on," she coaxed. "They put on plays. You'd probably get to kiss a cute girl."

"Are you one of them?" said the bespectacled boy. His partner-in-leg-tossing, a guy with shaggy grass green hair and piercings, nudged him with a look that begged to know if he was losing his mind. Quickly he sobered up. "Nope, still not worth it!"

"Yeah," said Lawn-hair. "Ami Kawata's in drama club. We're not working anywhere near that Type A time bomb."

Ayato broke into a broad smirk. Suddenly these guys were much more tolerable.

"Nezumi, she's not that bad," Yuri pressed on, to which Ayato scoffed. "Your brother is friends with her, after all."

"Lapse in judgement," Nezumi said with a shrug and a smile. Ayato bit his knuckle to keep from snickering, relishing even more in the weary look Yuri gave him. "You'd have better luck with Shiruba-kun up there. He's a nerd and he's madly in love with Ami."

A silver-haired boy yelped and fell backwards out of the tree. "I am not!"

"She's all we ever hear about," said Glasses.

"I said she was cute," Shiruba scrambled to his feet and held up a finger, " _one_ time."

"Ten times," said Blondie from the ground.

"You're making that up."

"Alright, you were thinking it."

"Oh really? I didn't know you had telepathy."

"It's just that you leave your head so vulnerable," Nezumi said.

"I do not—"

Nezumi grabbed Shiruba in a headlock and mercilessly noogied his already messy hair as he struggled. The fifth guy hopped down from his branch, short of stature with golden brown hair and a wiser face.

"Guys," he said, with the tired voice of a mediator.

The boys obediently broke apart. Shiruba swiftly mussed Nezumi's hair in retaliation, but the latter was unaffected as his bangs fell back into place.

"Thank you, Hirohashi," Yuri said sweetly. The boy blushed and looked away. "Seriously, aren't you at least a little bit interested in the arts? Music, dance, comedy, girls fawning over how expressive you are… Fujimoto?" Glasses twisted his mouth, not entirely convinced. Yuri shifted her eyes downward. "Takada?"

Takada pushed himself up off the mulch and grass, and scratched his blond hair.

"Fujimoto and I were going to try out for basketball," he said, shrugging like he wasn't all that sorry. "I have a cousin who might be into it though. Great dancer, really enthusiastic—"

Yuri brightened, hands clasped as she bounced on her heels right into Takada's face. "Well, what class is he in? Where can I find him?!"

Laughing, Takada backed up a few steps. "America. He _just_ transferred to study there."

"Man!" Yuri shrieked, clutching her temples as Nezumi and Fujimoto howled with laughter. "You're no help!"

She marched toward the school, Ayato following shortly after as he wasn't too interested in being left alone with that group. Faintly in the background he could hear Hirohashi offering a feeble "sorry" that got lost on the wind.

Yuri was still muttering under her breath when he caught up with her as she stomped up the steps.

"—boys are _useless—_ "

"Hey!" Ayato said, frowning as he got ahead of her and opened the door first.

She didn't even thank him when she looked up, only paused before she walked inside. "' _Hey'_ what? You know this is partly your fault."

"My fault!" He was aghast as he followed her in. "My fault that they have an idiotic sense of humor? You were obviously familiar with them, at least enough to know their names."

"Your fault for suggesting them!" Yuri complained. "I trusted your judgement!"

He let out an exasperated breath and raised his eyes heavenward.

"Trust your own judgment, I'm _not_ a recruiter," he said sharply. "I'm going to class."

He heard a sharp intake or hitch of air behind him as he turned a corner and took a different route to his classroom. Offense, hurt, he didn't care. He ignored it and kept going. An attitude like that? He wasn't going to put up with it. If she was going to be petulant, he'd see her during lunch.

* * *

And see her he did.

"Okay, it's not your fault Takada is an idiot," Yuri said with a sigh, dropping onto the bench next to him. "You're not God. You didn't make him."

Ayato smiled. "Well…"

She gave him a soft look and a little "hmph," and the afternoon felt a little warmer.

"I just… I don't like my time wasted," she said, more to the world than to him. "There's always a lot less than you think, and… and it feels so wrong to be somewhere doing something so frivolous when you should've been somewhere else. When you should've been using your time wisely."

He could understand that. Though honestly… was the operation she was so fixated on now any less frivolous?

Perhaps it was subjective. Kimito saw college, and school in general, as a time-waster. If he knew for sure his son was spending time with a friend instead of rushing home, he'd denounce it as well.

 _Is she wasting her time with you?_

He really hated that voice.

 _Think about it. If she's not getting what she wants out of a friendship… if it's dragging her down, won't she move onto the next one?_

He narrowed his eyes. Bit noisily into a piece of tempura to drown it out. Offered Yuri a piece. She chased it with coffee and sat back against the tree, but her leg tapped restlessly and her gaze didn't stay in one place. She was people-watching, for sure.

After a couple of minutes, Ayato chuckled at her. "It always has to be now with you, doesn't it?" he said, uncapping a bottle of tea and taking a sip.

"I guess so," she hummed. "I don't like being in any sort of limbo."

She finished her lunch quicker than usual, so while he was still eating she spent her time squinting in contemplation while she regaled him with one of her between-class recruiting attempts. A dramatic-looking girl had been loudly proclaiming some sort of monologue in the middle of the hallway, but when Yuri suggested she join drama club, she said that "the stylings and theatrics of mere mortals mean little to me."

And then she had revealed she was in some sort of singing group. That alone had baffled Yuri. Still, hearing her belting another monologue on the roof from all the way down here was what set Yuri off.

"—so how does that make any sense?" she lamented. "Listen to her! If Ami was out here she'd be salivating!"

"Let it go," said Ayato, listening to the girl's emphatic proclamations of being a fallen angel. "I don't think she's acting."

"You—" Yuri glanced up at the roof. Inexplicably, the girl had procured a dark cape, and was now standing on the edge letting it flutter in the wind. "Oh…" She slapped a hand to her forehead. "The people at this school, I swear."

"Now you're getting it," he said, rolling his eyes.

But that didn't quite put an end to the subject. To Miss Fallen Angel, yes, but now Yuri was seeing her surroundings with fresher eyes. She didn't want another Angel or Takada. It turned into – Ayato, does that guy seem too much like a meathead? And – ugh, can't ask _her_ , she's got stage fright written all over her. And…

He finished his lunch and closed the box, giving a tired scan of the campus. There had to be someone around here who seemed enthusiastic. Someone who might actually give a damn about theatre.

Not too far away from the doors, under the shade of the school roof, a girl was throwing away her lunch in the trash can. She had light brown hair in a ponytail and a cheerful, energetic gait. She turned and said something to another peppy girl with a bright smile. Her voice sounded like it could carry in an auditorium.

"What about her?" he suggested, pointing.

Yuri followed his finger with her eyes, and it took a millisecond for them to widen as if she'd been stung. With what, inspiration? Delight? Recognition? He hoped it was the first two, but she did know a lot of students around here. He quietly gave her a look, urging her on. The girl had briefly glanced in their direction after all. But that might've been because he hadn't been subtle with his pointing.

Her jaw set. She was visibly chewing on the inside of her lip, so it didn't look promising.

"I doubt it," she said after a thoughtful pause, her tone indifferent. "You've got to learn the difference between sporty and thespian."

Ayato squinted at her. "Just trying to help."

Honestly, after asking for his recruiting help? Talk about ungrateful.

And really… what was that look?

He didn't ask though. That little voice told him, _don't bother._

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 24 gets a little intense. Be prepared!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I'm trying not to leave you out here."_

" _I swear I did everything I could to avoid that."_

" _Ever had dreams where you're at another school?"_

" _He was my protector!"_

" _I'm going to_ have _to tell Yuri…"_

" _He's pretty cool when you get to know him."_

" _It affected you."_

" _All you've done is_ gripe _about everything!"_

" _You could have left well enough alone!"_

[Chapter 24]: **Other Friends.**


	24. Other Friends

**A/N: Man thank goodness I finished Ch 30 the other day. Brain and body are being rude again. I should probably set aside Ch 31 and just work on Heartbreak Cure again at the next writing spree I get. I miss it a lot, believe me.**

 **For now, here's Chapter 24. All I can say is, prepare for drama.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 24]: Other Friends_

* * *

Tuesday and Wednesday went similarly. Conversation-wise, entertainment-wise.

He walked in on Hejjiguchi and Kurimu flirting one morning when Ami was late to school. Hejjiguchi winked at him conspiratorially. His head almost went through the wall.

Whose? Ayato really wasn't sure.

And he'd heeded Kimito's advice of bringing his brain home from school with him, but it came jam-packed with a lot of stuff he didn't want to be thinking about. The looks, the little voice, the uncertainty, the flirting, the ranting. Pottery wasn't as mindless as Ayato sometimes thought it was, so his performance was… rather lax.

Kimito's solution to that? Extended training hours.

Never mind that exhaustion had a history of causing some of his worst work. With extended hours in addition to earlier rising, he was only sleeping just deep enough to dream. Fragments, sometimes, of that fantasy school that was so captivating. It would be a bit more acceptable if it didn't add to his sleeplessness when he woke from them and spent endless minutes playing them over in his head until they were gone or he crashed again.

So around midday on Thursday when Yuri met him in the hall and threw a curveball at him, his energy and patience were very low-bar.

"Ami asked me to have lunch with her," she said sheepishly.

He blinked, her words barely registering. "Okay…"

"And I _loyally_ told her I always have lunch with you," she continued. Then, as if anticipating his next response, she bit her lip. "So she invited you too."

"No."

She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it and closed it. She chewed her mouth, rolled another thought around on her tongue. "I'll tell her you have a headache. She'll keep it down and not bother you."

"Lunch is the only time of the school day—" He stopped before he raised his voice. There were people around; he didn't want to put either of them on the spot. "Forget it. There's nothing you can say to persuade me."

Yuri looked conflicted and a little flustered. "I'm trying not to leave you out here."

Leave him out? As if he were some charity case?

"Listen, I could—"

"Just go with Ami," he said. He was tired. He wanted to sleep through lunch, not sit in the middle of girlish chatter. "I'm going back to class. I need a nap anyway."

He turned so he wouldn't be subjected to her fallen face (obligatory or not), but as he started down the hall in the opposite direction, he heard her scoff under her breath behind him, "Clearly."

The comment wasn't worth confronting. His tiredness rang in his skull and popped his eardrums, as if he was underwater.

Lunch came. The classroom lay empty except for him – a single answered prayer.

He closed his eyes.

* * *

 _Somehow, his desk had turned into a couch, and Hejjiguchi was next to him crying into the cushions. Was that Hejjiguchi? His hair seemed lighter, his voice deeper._

 _Oh well. He smiled contentedly into the pages of the book he was reading. Hejjiguchi or not, his cries sustained him. Ayato had the feeling he had been the one to make him bawl like a baby, which highly amused him. Yes, maybe not-Hejjiguchi would think twice before crossing him again—_

 _And then he felt himself being lifted. A strong hand had him by the scruff and held tight._

" _Don't misuse your powers," said a stern voice. Ayato looked up and saw a head of orange hair and firm maroon eyes. "What'd you do to that poor guy?"_

" _He started it," Ayato said, feeling defensive all of a sudden. "I resolved things peacefully. God is innocent."_

" _Peaceful? You made a grown man cry on his knees!"_

 _The door creaked open. "*****shi?" It was Yuri's voice, but he didn't quite get the name. It sounded like static fuzz. "Naoi? We need to talk. Come with me for a moment."_

 _He didn't know what this was all about, and certainly didn't like taking orders. But he recognized the redhead as the sane man among a group of imbeciles. So when Redhead obeyed Yuri, he followed suit._

 _She led them down an endless hallway. Then they were in a dark room with a single table and chair, though he didn't remember going through any door._

 _When Redhead voiced his confusion, Yuri gave Ayato a firm look._

" _Naoi," she said. Apparently they were on a last name basis again; the sharp edge to her voice all but confirmed it. "I want you to help *****shi regain his lost memories."_

 _He didn't like her tone. "You dare order me around? Who do you think you are?!"_

 _Redhead, as it turned out, had quite a slap to him. The impact was so hard that it knocked his cap off-kilter. The back of his head burned with pain; Ayato clutched his ringing skull in agony as he nursed his pride._

" _-don't contradict her. Just shut up and do what she tells you to!" Redhead was saying. He lost some of the reprimand as the room sang with a horrid wail._

 _More radio static. The room buzzed and flickered. He was in the student council room for just a second, Yuri looking supremely unimpressed with him. Behind him, he could hear not-Hejjiguchi calling him a moron._

 _Again, the room flickered. The window behind Yuri shattered and a strange, thick darkness billowed in like demon fog. Yuri was gone and he was in a hallway with not-Hejjiguchi and Redhead with more glass windows falling to pieces around them. They ran outside to a courtyard where the demon fog – now with bright eyes – had multiplied into hundreds of beings waiting for them._

 _His two companions stared at him, wide-eyed. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see one monster descending on him like a famished leopard._

 _It began to consume him, burrowing within while he screamed for help. His body felt cold and his vision blurred, greying around the edges like his eyes had been too vigorously rubbed. Within his peripheral vision, he saw a classroom full of blank faces. He felt his body being knocked to the ground._

 _Before he passed out, he could swear he heard gunshots—_

* * *

Ayato woke up in the least dignified way possible – with a snorting gasp, alert eyes, and an audience.

The culprit behind his rude awakening stood at the scene of the crime, the toe of her shoe still entangled with a desk's leg. She threw her hands up in surrender and repentance.

"Sorry!" she said in earnest. "I swear I did everything I could to avoid that."

He blinked away his nap vision and panic until he could get a good look at her. Didn't sound like Yuri. Medium-height but auburn-haired, eyes wide enough to be noticeably blue.

"Hisakawa." Bewilderment gave way to recognition. "What are you doing in here?"

"Came to deliver something." She regarded the desks in the room for a moment, then settled her gaze back to him. "This is Souma Hejjiguchi's classroom, right? Where's his seat?"

He gestured over his shoulder. "Two behind mine."

"Thanks."

As she weaved her way through the desks, he promptly face-planted into his own. Gave the furnished wood a rich, prolonged groan that it kindly muffled for him. Trust Hejjiguchi to indirectly ruin his sleep.

Still, the way that dream was going…

Through the barrier of his arms, he heard Hisakawa fall into Kurimu's seat behind him.

"Something wrong?" she asked carefully. "I mean, other than me scaring you senseless out of a nap."

 _Something wrong…_ Ayato huffed, pulling his head up from his desk only to rub his temples. What a question. Of the million answers he could give her, he wished he could pick a favorite.

"Ever had dreams where you're at another school?" he asked with a sigh, drowsiness still tugging at his voice. "A really weird one?"

"Well, yeah. Doesn't everyone?" Hisakawa stretched out her legs onto Ami's chair. "I'm no psychologist, but school dreams are stress dreams. Ideally we would leave school at school. But our brain says, 'I don't think so. Here's proof that there are scarier things than exams.'"

"You have no idea," Ayato mumbled, thinking back to the demon fog.

Hisakawa hummed as if reminiscent. "Dinosaurs in the hallways, tornadoes in the courtyard—"

"Mine are usually in the gym."

"—falling really slowly in a deep dark pit—"

"Don't forget the vicious giant river monster," he added. He didn't know about deep dark pits but he was definitely almost swallowed by a giant fish.

Behind him, Hisakawa sounded excited.

"Yes!" She snapped her fingers as if he'd said the magic word. "And it's thrashing around in the water making a maelstrom and everyone's drowning, being pulled down to the depths. And you feel really responsible like it's your science project, but you just don't know how to soothe the damn thing when it's the size of a bus…"

"A bus? Try a whale." He grimaced; the gaping mouth was vivid in his memory. "And no, the one in mine just tried to eat me."

Hisakawa laughed.

"Well, excuse me," she said. "But lesson learned. Don't read about giant squids or watch pirate movies when you're stressed about a project. Especially if your pet fish just died."

"Pet fish?" Ayato snickered. "Who has a pet fish?"

Hisakawa gave an offended gasp that was only half-joking. "His name was Mamoru! He was my protector!"

"My deepest condolences, but you can't possibly expect a fish be a proper guard animal." He shook his head in disbelief, amazed he was still having this conversation. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather not get into an argument about fish."

"Who's arguing?" Hisakawa asked innocently. But she said no more on the matter.

 _Who's arguing_ , his little voice echoed. He frowned, leaning back in his chair. It wasn't that he had a problem with Hisakawa, she just… It was her presence here. It reminded him of Yuri. Of the distance. Of what he still didn't know about her, what she stubbornly kept from him.

Hisakawa knew her before he did. They'd been on the gymnastics team together. And now she was sitting right here. He could so easily just _ask._

He pivoted in his seat, turned to look at her. She'd dropped her legs from the chair and had instead pressed her back against the wall, head leaning against the window. Eyes closed, drinking in the silence. But when he turned, one eye popped open.

"Hm?" she said, as if he was the one who'd disturbed her nap.

His gall wavered and he averted his gaze. It wasn't right. It wouldn't be right to get it from her. How could he stew about not having someone's full trust, only to go behind her back and dishonor what he had of it?

"It's nothing," he said. "Never mind."

"Well whatever it is, don't dwell on it too much." Hisakawa stretched out her arms and legs until they cracked. "If it's that important, you should probably do something about it."

"I thought you said you weren't a psychologist," Ayato said, eyeing her as she stood up from Kurimu's chair.

"Just a believer in actions." She sat on the edge of Hejjiguchi's desk and rifled through her bag. "Petty begets petty, trust me."

Ayato turned to her with a response on the tip of his tongue, but then the door slid open – and who should walk in but his and Yuri's favorite couple? Hejjiguchi and Kurimu were laughing about something, her gasping for breath as she clutched his arm for support. When they noticed the other two, she miraculously regained the ability to inhale as they both stopped in their tracks.

Hejjiguchi was the first to regain his composure. He blinked a couple of times, then flashed a friendly grin.

"Hey, Hisakawa," he said, with a corny little salute. "What brings you here?"

Just in time, she fished something gold out of her bag and waved it triumphantly in the air. "We found your gold bracelet in the gym. Must've left it when you borrowed or brought back the hurdles. Coach asked me to give it to you."

With that, she flip-tossed the piece to Hejjiguchi, and they both looked equally impressed when he caught it.

"It's not a bracelet," Hejjiguchi said defensively, sliding it onto his wrist. "It's a cuff… ring… thing."

"Thick bracelet," said Hisakawa, shrugging. She glanced to Ayato and then to Kurimu. "And I hope you both saw that because something that cool and coordinated will never happen again."

Hejjiguchi laughed as she passed him by. "Did Coach Watanabe say if we'd be sharing the field this week?"

"Next Friday."

"Cool, see you then." He threw her a wink and a thumbs up. Ayato was flabbergasted. Sure, Hejjiguchi winked at everyone, but what did Kurimu think of that just now? He glanced at her, but after she waved a good-natured goodbye to Hisakawa, her curious gaze turned to him instead.

"Aoki, aren't you the jealous type at all?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "He just talked to and winked at another woman."

Both Kurimu and Hejjiguchi looked incredulous at him.

"Him? What about you?" Kurimu said, surprised.

Hejjiguchi shook his head, tsking exaggeratedly at him. "Talking to other girls, Naoi. For shame."

Ayato scowled. "Shut up."

"I'm going to _have_ to tell Yuri…"

"Tell Yuri what?"

Ah yes, it wouldn't be the troublesome trio without rosy Ami Kawata, who was standing in the doorway after lunch still hungry for gossip. He regarded her and her arrival time with subtle scrutiny. Had all three of them eaten with Yuri?

Hejjiguchi dropped into his seat and kicked back. "Aw, nothing. We were just giving him a hard time."

Ami smiled slightly at him before taking her own seat and turning to Ayato.

"And rightfully so," she said, with a sternness he couldn't tell was joking or not. "You should've come and had lunch with us! Four is an unlucky number."

Ayato scoffed, allowing only the front board his full attention. "You and your superstitions."

"You said it yourself last month!" she reminded him.

Luckily for Ayato, more classmates and the teacher filed into the classroom before she could press the matter further, and he was left alone to his thoughts. Except, of course, for the unfortunate fact of his seating and his being within earshot of annoying conversations.

"Hey," Ami stage-whispered to Kurimu, "was that Hisakawa I saw leaving the classroom two minutes ago?"

"Yeah." Kurimu's whispers were always short and sweet, to minimize teacher trouble.

Ami wasn't satisfied with it. "Why was she here?"

"To drop off Hejjiguchi's bracelet."

"What was she doing with—" _Shut up_ , Ayato thought, willing her with any mental abilities he had to zip her lips. "Never mind."

Success?

No. There was a lingering pause, while Ami tapped her nails rhythmically on the desk. But then, "Did she talk to Naoi at all while she was in here?"

"Maybe a little, but he looked like he'd just woken up from a nap," Kurimu said patiently.

"Oh—"

Ayato snapped. Did these two honestly think he couldn't hear them? Masuda's tall stature and good posture served as an opportune shield from the teacher's view, so he looked sharply over his shoulder at Ami.

"Why," he demanded.

Ami blinked, shameless but caught. "Why what?"

"Why do you care if I talk to Hisakawa?"

Her eyebrows furrowed at him, and she crossed her arms over her desk. "Maybe I need to know everything."

"Maybe you don't—"

"Kawata! Naoi!" the teacher barked. "Stop flirting and pay attention."

Ami's red face crinkled in dismayed disgust; he was sure his reflected the same. They obeyed, with Hejjiguchi cracking up in the background.

That is, until the teacher told him to shut up as well. At least he got that justice.

* * *

By Friday, Yuri was too rattled to be sulky at him for the lunch debacle, and on Monday, he was too tired to be actively sulky with her. Akuma High's sports day certainly hadn't helped his situation.

But in Yuri's case, it was almost mid-October, and the school festival was creeping closer and closer. Wouldn't it be kind of pointless to accept new drama club members at the last minute? They'd probably already be busy with an idea or rehearsals for a play and have no roles for two newbies to fill.

"If drama club is about to be busy, then it keeps Ami busy," Ayato had noted, when Yuri had come to "congratulate" him for Hejjiguchi winning the relay race for his class and instead started fussing again. "Wasn't that the entire point?"

Yuri had given him a withering look for that. Why did girls hate logic?

Speaking of girls, they continued to be confusing this week. Tuesday, Ami had stopped him after class to talk to him in private. Hejjiguchi and Kurimu, of course, had no problem walking to lunch just the two of them, and promised they'd save her a seat. Ayato imagined that meant "sitting together and then quickly jumping a seat apart when they spotted her."

"I didn't tell Yuri about Thursday," she said conspiratorially. And then, with a decisive nod, "You're welcome."

"For what?" He tried to think back to Thursday. He would say he'd slept since then but that wouldn't be entirely accurate.

Ami placed her hands on her hips, multiple gold bracelets jingling.

"You boys and your terrible memory! No wonder you stood Kurimu up." Her lips pursed into a thin line as she sized him up. "You had lunch with Hisakawa, didn't you? Remember that?"

"I didn't have lunch with her," Ayato said, rolling his eyes. "She came to drop off something of Hejjiguchi's. Some memory _you_ have."

Ami waved away the facts as if shooing an annoying fly.

"Well, you talked to her," she said, and waggled her finger at him. "Behind Yuri's back? That's a no-no in my book."

"I merely acknowledged her." He scoffed, eyeing the exit behind her with longing. Then he fixed her with a stare of blatant intolerance. "And I don't recall Yuri making any rules about who I can and can't speak to."

Ami stomped her foot. "It's disloyal!"

"What's disloyal about it?" Ayato said incredulously. "Do they dislike each other? If Yuri can make friends with people who irritate me, I have every right—"

"To talk to them behind her back?" Ami interrupted with a frown. "I'm not going to tell her, but you should."

"I don't have to, because it was nothing." He 'accidentally'thumped her shoulder on his way to the door. "Now if you'll excuse me."

In his personal opinion, the sputtering that ensued made her sound like a horse.

"I don't know what Yuri sees in you!" she squawked.

The classroom door slid shut behind him, effectively muffling the rest of her spiel. He could say the same for her – didn't Yuri hate people who wasted someone's precious time?

But still, her parting words…

 _How many people do you think feel that way?_

He inwardly cursed Ami for how long that thought pursued him. For a time, he'd been ignoring most looks in the hallways or at lunch in favor of paying attention to Yuri's operation. But Ami's words brought it back – his hyperawareness. The tiny electrical jolt in his brain whenever someone glanced their way and it instinctively analyzed who they were looking at, the shift of their eyebrow, attention timespan…

It was overdrive, that's what it was. Exhausting.

Every time someone looked, he made pointed eye contact. More often than not, they would pretend to be interested in something else. But sometimes he dreamed of a more powerful gaze, one that would deliver a more fitting punishment.

After all, it was rude to stare.

* * *

On Wednesday, he needed a respite.

With thoughts not turning off – spiraling, if anything – they were trying to get into his head that drama queen Ami disliking him a little more now and hanging out with Yuri was a dangerous combination. So he had that fun concept to deal with now, wonderful. And Yuri was still irritable as she was relating more and more to his theory that theirs was a school of imbeciles.

Or, in her words, "Geez, everyone's so useless! …Whoa, déjà vu."

What he found particularly aggravating, but a grievance he had learned not to voice, was that getting Yuri to ask certain perky and loud girls (those he considered the most dramatic) was like trying to drag a dog past a succulent hot dog on the ground. Especially athletic types.

"It's the same issue as before!" she'd complained when he tried to question this. "They're athletes, not thespians."

"Did you ever think they could be both?" he countered.

Yuri sighed into a facepalm. "I should never have exposed you to _High School Musical_ this summer."

"But you did, so reap the consequences."

"You paid attention to that, but athletes have prior time-conflicting engagements!" Yuri reminded him. "Unlike in the movies, I can't rig anything to make them miss it."

And it wasn't worth researching any schedules, so he'd dropped the matter. But he still thought it was stubborn of her to limit her options; at this point she was causing her own stress. For that, he was considerably less sympathetic.

Yuri had a tendency to be emotionally contagious, so five minutes into lunch on Wednesday after a brain-melting surprise test, he stopped her in mid-rant.

"Please tell me there's good news," he said, mentally projecting himself to bed.

Something. Anything he could use to put his mind at ease through tonight's throwing session. Something to think about other than strange looks, or unfounded fears, or what he did or didn't deserve. Those things tensed his hands and pressured the pottery wheel pedal, and Kimito was getting fed up. More often this week his father's hand had flown unrestrained. Although such things hadn't come up in his conversations with Yuri these days, it hurt like hell and he'd like to get less of it. He figured that was what made the slap in his dream from last week feel so absurdly real.

Some sort of metaphorical heavenly chorus sang when Yuri's face lit up in recollection.

"Actually, yes!" she said with a smile. "Brighter note. You know how I've been doing homework after school lately? Kind of hoping I'll run into someone? Well…"

* * *

 _Yuri sat at a desk by the window, tapping her pencil on her notebook. That was the benefit of doing homework at school after hours—she could do a drum solo with the damn thing if she wanted. Sure she could do that at home, but not to the same effect._

 _Plus there was the added bonus of choice seating. She might as well be the star of her own school anime._

 _For dramatic effect, she took a moment to gaze out the window. There were track and field students running laps, some slower than the others. The predatory part of her mind kept a watchful eye on the slow ones. Maybe with a little push they'd quit and switch to theatre. One guy's gait was a bit flamboyant. She had a sudden urge to send a paper airplane or an arrow with a secret message: "JOIN DRAMA CLUB." But when had she ever been good at archery? This operation was making her think ridiculous thoughts._

 _Her attention broke when the door to the classroom rumbled open. Peeking in from the doorway was a tall, slim male student with vivid purple hair. And gold eyes, which widened just a bit when he spotted her there._

" _I'm sorry, I thought this room was empty," he said, blinking. Then he cocked his head. "Wait a minute. Aren't you Yuri Nakamura? What are you doing here?"_

" _Just doing my homework while I wait for someone," she said with an innocent shrug. "But how come I need an excuse? What are_ you _doing here?"_

" _The same as you." He slid the door shut behind him with the back of his foot. "Except the part about waiting for someone."_

" _I see." Yuri kept her response short, as she was curious about him. Giving brief answers like that tended to make people uncomfortable and start giving out more information._

 _He played right into her hands. Shifting a bit, the boy added, "Living with a couple of idiots doesn't give me a lot of peace and quiet, so I've got to do my assignments and meditating here."_

 _Yeah, he had the voice for meditating. Deep, but calm and serene._

" _A couple of idiots?" Yuri echoed after a second, as his words set in. "That's what you call your parents?"_

 _He laughed nervously. "No, no. They aren't my parents. Just my roommates. God help anyone who has either of them for a father."_

" _Oh." He had to be a little young to be living with roommates rather than parents, but she accepted it. "Well, apparently you already know me, so who are you?"_

" _Where are my manners?" he said with a grin, and sat down at the desk next to her before extending his hand. "I'm Eisuke Masuda."_

" _Masuda!" The name rang a few bells, so she wracked her brain. "You're the one guy other than Naoi who stays awake during his History class."_

 _Masuda laughed. "That would be me."_

* * *

"So you met Masuda," said Ayato, rubbing his chin.

Another new friend – at least this one somewhat renewed his faith in Yuri's taste. But still…

"Yeah, he's kind of quiet—"

"In comparison to Ami, anyone is quiet."

"—but he's pretty cool when you get to know him," Yuri continued.

He nodded seriously. "Then, did you two have a long heart-to-heart? Trade secrets, braid each other's hair?"

"Not quite," said Yuri, measuring his sarcasm with an arched brow, "but we did get to talking. He doesn't live with his parents, just two roommates – Hachihama's a grade below us and Miyake graduated a couple years ago. Miyake keeps trying to start this amateur detective business but Masuda says he'd honestly rather be in the police force—"

As he listened, Ayato didn't know what to make of this. Granted it was a better conversational topic than past subjects. The gleam in her eye wasn't one of a stressed woman on a mission, but of a girl who'd made a new friend. He'd seen the same gleam six months ago in this very spot.

This was novel. This was new.

"—and he thought I was waiting on you, but I said no, and told him about the drama club thing. He basically pointed out that he'd heard I almost exclusively hang out with you," she added, brushing it off like it was nothing, "but I was like, 'Hey, I'm broadening my circle.'"

He blinked and reeled back as he processed this.

 _Unless she has a new best friend—Guess she got bored of you—Always looking for something new to play with—I don't know what Yuri sees in you!_

 _I'm—broadening—my—circle—_

"So that's allowed," he said after a moment.

Yuri paused, crinkling her forehead at him. "What's allowed?"

"Being friends with other people." He looked at her briefly, tilting his head in mock contemplation. "I can do that too, right? Even people you don't like."

Her lips thinned, unimpressed with his sarcasm. "I'm not… Geez, what brought this on?"

He huffed. "Ami gave me the impression that there are girls I'm not allowed to talk to without your permission."

"She…" Yuri began to laugh, and flicked him in the forehead. "She still thinks we like each other, remember? I haven't said anything against it because I thought it would keep her from starting the Kurimu thing up again." She shook her head, still laughing. "Ungrateful."

In some cases, that would appease him with the amount of sense it made. But he didn't much like being made a mockery of, especially since it didn't quite feel like the right answer.

"So if I tell you, as Ami ordered, the name of the girl I talked to during lunch last Thursday," he said, rolling his eyes as Yuri made a whip cracking noise, "it'll have no effect on you whatsoever?"

Yuri was still laughing as she raised her coffee can to her mouth.

"Lay it on me," she said. "I'll try not to get jealous."

Feeling considerate, and also not wanting to get any spray from a resulting spit-take, he waited for her to swallow. And then, watching very carefully for her reaction, he said the name:

"Chitose Hisakawa."

The leftover fizzle of laughter came to a knee-jerk stop. Her smile fell so suddenly from her lips it might've landed right into her lap. The mirth even dimmed in her eyes, giving way to a familiar darkness he couldn't put his finger on. It was such a devastating impact he might feel bad if he hadn't just been proven right.

The name festered between them for a good minute as they stared at each other, Yuri silently waiting for something. An explanation, perhaps.

"It affected you," he said simply. "Why?"

It took Yuri's half-second pause for him to predict what she was going to say next. "I don't want to talk about it," they said in unison.

"What a surprise. You won't tell me." He moved his half-eaten lunch off his lap and stood up. "You pour your heart out to Masuda in a day but I don't deserve that privilege anymore, is that right? I've lost my novelty."

"Your novelty?" Yuri gawked at him like he was an idiot. "I'm allowed to keep some things to myself!"

"Ami knows about it!" Ayato countered.

"How would you know? You don't even know what _it_ is!"

But then a look like realization took over her, and she got to her feet with bright, angry eyes.

"Or do you?" she said, pointing a finger so that her rose-red nail poked his chest. "You talked to Hisakawa. What'd she tell you? What did _you_ say to _her?_ " She got in his face, nostrils flaring. "Were you so desperate to know _all_ my secrets that you went and double-crossed me?"

" _She_ talked to _me,_ " Ayato sniffed, "if that's so hard to believe. That other people besides you might befriend me without judgment. Do you think you're cool for hanging around with the son of the biggest bastard in Akuma?"

"God, don't be so edgy!"

"That's why you started hanging out with me, wasn't it?" he accused. Part of him knew he was spitting drivel, but he couldn't help himself. "I was 'edgy.' I had some sort of cheap appeal. But now I'm not even worth your time. The bored little rich girl wants to play with someone else." He scoffed then, crossing his arms. "I bet the same thing happened with Hisakawa and you just threw her away."

Yuri's cheeks flushed a vivid crimson, her fists clenched and shaking at her sides. "That's NOT it!"

"Then what is it?!" Ayato snapped, glaring at her. "Why do people look at us like we're mismatched? Why do you not give a damn about anything but your newest project? Why do people like Hejjiguchi and Ami get to know something about you that I don't? Why—"

"That's not my fault, I didn't tell them—"

"—is your _every_ answer 'I don't want to talk about it'? What could be so important that your best friend doesn't deserve to know—"

"Why can't YOU mind your own goddamn business?!" Yuri shouted.

"When are they going to kiss?" some girl within earshot whispered to her friend.

"SHUT UP!" Ayato and Yuri yelled, which sent both girls running.

When they'd lost their audience, Ayato brought his glare back to Yuri, who returned it just as fiercely. She was breathing heavy, lips red from biting them in aggravation. There was coffee at the corner of her mouth. Somehow that trivial detail felt like a victory for him.

"Or am I your best friend?" he challenged. "You haven't been much of one lately—"

"I can't believe you of all people are saying this!" Yuri threw her hands up in exasperated disbelief. "You've been nothing but a grouch!"

"All I've done is try to help—"

"All you've done is _gripe_ about everything," she said with a scowl, "and act like it doesn't matter just because _you_ don't like Ami and _you_ don't care about it!"

"You knew I wanted to be done with their stupidity and you dragged us back in!" Ayato shot back. "Making friends with the people you know I can't stand? You could have left well enough alone!"

Yuri laughed loudly, bitterly. "Look who's talking! You didn't leave the past in the past. You made friends with _Hisakawa_ —"

"Because you wouldn't tell me—"

"I shouldn't HAVE to!" Yuri snarled at him. "You're not entitled to know everything about me! It has nothing to do with you, so stop being such a brat about it!"

"Why don't you stop being such a dodgy bitch?" he spat. "I think it has everything to do with me. Friends don't hide from each other!"

Yuri recoiled as if from a hard slap.

"What the hell would you know about it?" she said coldly. "I guess we aren't friends. You haven't even told me _your_ thing – and you know what? Unlike you, I don't really give a damn!"

With that, she grabbed the remains of her lunch and stormed toward the doors to the school. Leaving Ayato standing there under the tree with his jaw clenched in bristled fury. And the stares, subtle in the hallway, were blatant and lingering and wide-eyed in the courtyard.

So he figured he didn't have much left to lose.

"It was a stupid coffee mug I made for your birthday!" Ayato shouted after her. " _And you know what?_ Now I'm GLAD he broke it!"

* * *

 **A/N: Alright I feel bad for loving this chapter. But in my defense, I love angsty fights. And Hisakawa is kind of fun to develop. Most of my other OCs are based on characters who already have personalities (like stencils). Hisakawa is way more _mine_ and I've never really done that before.**

 **Anyways, brace yourselves. More drama ahead!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I don't want to spread gossip."_

" _You're useless, boy!"_

" _You wouldn't fight in front of a lady."_

" _Stay in your seats!"_

" _Wow, a whole month…"_

" _Why would you lie about something like that?"_

" _Hejjiguchi, your game's off today!"_

[Chapter 25]: **Distance.**


	25. Distance

**A/N: Okay, so Naoi and Yuri are going to both have POVs for a couple of chapters. I was going to say that double line breaks means a perspective change - but apparently you can't do the double lines here? Oh well. It shouldn't be too hard to tell whose perspective it is.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 25]: Distance_

* * *

It didn't hit him when he was walking home from school without her.

It didn't hit him in the afternoon when he wedged chunks of clay with balled fists. Nor at night when he blacked out as soon as his head made contact with pillow.

But on Thursday morning, he dragged his tired self to the fork in the path and not a soul was standing there waiting for him. Nothing and no one could have hit him harder.

He'd felt a blow to the stomach before. This was an entirely new kind of ache.

Ayato replayed the fight three times in his head on the way to school. Whenever he thought he'd finally shaken it off, he'd see Yuri's neighborhood in his peripheral vision, or pass the Maeda coffee shop on the sidewalk, and it'd start all over again.

Double-crosser, she'd called him. Edgy. Grouch. Entitled brat who needed to mind his own business. Each time, his brain added another insult to the table, some he wondered if he was just digging out of his imagination. But each time, it ended the same:

 _Not friends._

And fair enough, he'd spat a few choice words at her too. There were some things he felt were justified, things she needed to be called out for. Still...

He caught his reflection in a window display of televisions. Alone, a stark contrast to the group of girls on the news who'd just won a Battle of the Bands contest. Of the four girls, one looked oddly familiar in a way he couldn't quite place. Tall, with cool grey eyes and light brown hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was laughing with her friends, arm slung over the shoulder of a black-haired soulful-type girl who looked like she'd found a smile among a pile of pain. They had each other, she had a smile, and he was alone.

 _Was it worth it?_

It was still early when he got to campus. That one group was rough-housing around their favorite tree again; the glasses guy – Fujimoto, was it? – was viciously shaking one of the branches while Takada was draped over it like laundry. If they kept knocking each other down like this they were all going to get brain damage.

Ayato scoffed and walked right past them into the building. They didn't notice.

Good.

When he entered the classroom, Hejjiguchi and Kurimu greeted him for half a second, but went back to talking about her mother's bakery or whatever the hell mattered to them. Leaving him to stare out the window in peace.

Good.

Ami strolled in five minutes later with two cans of Key coffee and an iced tea. She handed them out to her group and didn't greet him. She had the decency to drag Kurimu to the back corner with Hejjiguchi and do her heated whispering there instead of right in his ear.

Good.

It was good to be invisible again.

* * *

Turns out the heated whispering was about him. He learned that when Ami got caught with her cell phone during History, and the teacher asked her to read her friend's texts aloud. He angled in his seat to silently relish in the triumph of class-wide judgment-casting, but she looked straight ahead and then down at her phone as she read:

"No, didn't walk home with him today. He's a jerk. Just went home. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow."

The teacher rubbed his chin. "And what did you say back?"

Ami's voice wavered a bit. _What's the matter, don't you like the spotlight?_ Ayato thought nastily. "I told you. The biggest jerk. Call me tonight if you'd like. I want to know the details."

Teacher nodded seriously. "I'm sure we all do. Who's the biggest jerk, Kawata?"

"I don't want to spread gossip," Ami said, her cheeks growing steadily rosier with mortification. "The classroom is no place for it."

"You're right about that," he said. Then he snapped his fingers and held his palm out in a beckoning gesture.

The class turned back around in their seats, following with their eyes as Ami did the walk of shame to the front of the classroom and let her phone be confiscated. Even Masuda, who had respectfully stayed put facing forward during her text recital, regarded her with mild pity until she returned to her chair.

Not Ayato, though, who smiled when he heard her phone drop into the box with a satisfying thump. She caught his smile and glared daggers back, then turned up her nose as she fell into her seat. As if she still had any dignity left from that embarrassing display.

He could feel eyes on him after that. Hejjiguchi's, Kurimu's, Ami's. Should have known Ami was telling them his personal business. Should have enjoyed the invisibility while it lasted.

Honestly, why were they so obsessed with them? Couldn't they just leave him alone and make out or something? If they didn't learn to keep to their own soon, well… he could just give Ami something else to talk about. He could damn well drop a certain truth bomb into their midst if he so pleased, that would make things interesting. He'd love to hear Ami's take on going behind Yuri's back when she found out her own best friends were dating behind hers.

Yes, that would keep her busy for sure.

He reconsidered when plagued with thoughts of Ami standing on top of her desk every day monologuing about utter betrayal, but still… The knowledge of that power within his grasp warmed him and got him through another two class periods.

* * *

Lunch came. His legs had carried him on autopilot down a hallway and a half before he realized what he was doing. He stopped in his tracks, tried to recalibrate and mull over his eating choices. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flicker of wine red hair. He looked. It quickly disappeared around a corner.

Maybe he imagined it.

He hadn't thought about where he would eat lunch now. The weather was nice and warm, but he shouldn't eat outside. Yuri said once that it was her favorite spot, that she wished she'd claimed it last year. She'd probably claimed it now. Unless she was having lunch with her best friend Ami.

Ayato scoffed at the thought. He could see it now – Ami and her loving sidekicks disregarding the anti-four rule to crowd around Yuri's lunch table in solidarity. Maybe she even invited Masuda.

The border bench and the cafeteria were out. But he needed fresh air and a rest.

He retreated to the club room, opened the window, and dragged the nearest desk to it. Then he collapsed in the chair and closed his eyes.

* * *

" _Are you sure? Let me know if you change your mind. We'll be in the cafeteria."_

" _Thanks,"_ Yuri tapped out a short reply. " _I just want to be alone."_

She glanced up from her phone, staring out the hallway windows with a kind of longing. Sure, October was one of the most beautiful months of the year, and she should enjoy the pleasant feel of autumn while it lasted, but…

Outside, she might run into _Naoi._ Their spot – it was originally his. He'd discovered it first. That was where she first found him at this school. She was sure that if she tried to eat outside, she'd find him there again. The last thing she wanted right now was to not only see him today, but risk accidentally catching his eye the entire lunch period.

The roof? No, she doubted very much she'd be alone there. Ideally that was the place she should go, since she still needed a recruit, but… she couldn't think about that either.

That left the club room.

She strode down the necessary twists and turns until she got to the right hallway. Maybe she could crack open the window today. If no teachers were looking, it might be fun to sit on the edge. Let her feet dangle a bit. Think about nothing else but balance.

Her fingers grazing the door handle, she was just about to yank it open. Body pressed close enough to the door that her nose touched the glass. But then – the window was already open. And just below it—

Naoi. Asleep. Legs propped up on the desk, back sloped in the chair. His lunch on his lap, rising and falling with his stomach.

Closing her eyes, she mouthed a curse under her breath. This room too?! Why did he have to be so selfish—

She leaned too far forward and her hand pressed harder against the handle, the impact accidentally rattling the door. Her eyes shot back open and she recoiled, cursing again silently. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes just open a crack? Was he looking at her? Shit!

She ducked sideways and fled back the way she'd come. When she was far enough away and hadn't heard any doors sliding open, she fell against a wall and took out her phone.

" _Changed my mind. I'll be there soon."_

* * *

Hejjiguchi really could be annoying sometimes, Yuri decided in the middle of her last class.

She'd joined the three for lunch in the cafeteria as promised. But that didn't change the fact that she wanted to be alone. It was her unspoken wish that they would talk to each other while keeping her company, and simply let her mope. Leave her be as the silent observer.

But Hejjiguchi thrived on funny, and thought friendly jabs and nudges were the pinnacle of good therapy. He offered to make digs at Naoi's expense. Why would she want to spend a lunch period hearing or thinking about Naoi?

On top of everything, he kept teasing her about having "trouble in paradise." God, she never should have told him such a stupid lie. Now she was forced to deal with that dumb all-knowing grin on his face as he accused her of having "boy problems." Thought he was so smart because he had a girlfriend, one that _she'd_ basically given him.

Ugh, intolerable! Naoi was right—

No, she never wanted to even think that again. Naoi was a moron too, just another dumb boy who thought he knew everything. And when he didn't know something, he still talked about it like his was word of God. Nothing from his mouth had any validity to it.

So she'd be lenient with Hejjiguchi and his amiable idiocy, if not out of spite (and because she knew she was just being grumpy). But if he made a comment about the "love department" one more time...

Ami thought his jokes were funny, no surprise there. But she had the good sense to cover her smile and look down in guilt. Kurimu just frowned nervously and asked if she slept okay, patted her hand a couple of times. Offered her a strawberry pastry from her home lunch. Yuri only managed to eat a few bites, so that made her feel bad too.

Guess there was no winning with her today.

After school, Yuri's phone got bombarded with texts, signaling that Ami had finally gotten her phone back. She asked her if she was sticking around today. If she wanted to hang out after drama club.

Yuri peered out the school window, regarding the track field with interest. She saw Hejjiguchi and Kurimu on their respective sides of a chain-link fence, talking close like separated literary lovers. She considered her options.

The house was still all hers. Theoretically, she could go home and let herself stew for a few hours, with a homework break in between. Or she could stay and play interceptor.

Her phone chirped at her. A text from Hejjiguchi.

" _I know I have practice in 2 minutes but I just found a joke insult generator and put in Naoi's name. Here are my favorites."_

She turned off her phone and walked out the door.

* * *

Going by the track record, Ayato truly wondered if this time of year was cursed.

Mid October through early November, that is. Or later. Autumn meant beautiful foliage, and decent weather, and festivals. Lots and lots of festivals. But what did people like at festivals? Music, of course. Dancing, decorations, lanterns, costumes, and art.

Including ceramics.

When festival-goers saw masterfully painted pots and complex designs on vases, it often filled them with a fleeting but overwhelming appreciation for all things pottery. There'd be a rush of customers new and old combing through their wares for new dishes, vases, and figurines. So to keep up with anticipated traffic and keep their shelves stocked, Kimito aggressively turned up the heat in the kiln (so to speak) and ignited a season of stress for the both of them.

To present a general idea of the norm during this time: tonight, Ayato fell too deep into his own mind and accidentally clutched the blade of a fettling knife too hard in his fist. He didn't notice until Kimito yelled at him. Not in concern, but the outrage of dripping blood all over the floor.

He dropped the knife and stared down at the long, thin cut in his palm. He thought of Yuri. He squeezed his fist closed and washed it off at the sink, then bound it in gauze and tape.

Kimito screamed at him again. He was "wasting valuable working time" and apparently "couldn't be trusted with sharp objects."

"You're useless, boy!" he hollered close to dinnertime when Ayato took too long fetching his box of loop and ribbon tools.

Ayato smiled sardonically. "So I've heard."

Kimito heard and hit him for it. He didn't care very much.

After dinner, and a couple more hours of work, he carried himself up the stairs. His mother, who had turned in early, heard him and poked her head out into the hall to say goodnight. He closed his bedroom door without a response.

In his tired state of mind he did feel badly for that. She'd seen his gauze-wrapped fist and fretted about it at dinner. Kimito told her to drop it and not coddle him or next thing they knew he'd be stupid enough to cut his whole hand off, but she still told him to remember to change the bandages.

"He should know that too," Kimito had said. "If he lets it rot, he learns by experience."

Mother had looked ill at the thought, so he reminded her gruffly to "take a joke, woman." Ayato and his mother shared a subtle, private look then, both finding that Kimito's sense of humor left something to be desired.

She probably thought that the look had bridged the gap between them. To him it was not a bridge, really. Incomplete if anything. More like a dock. If anyone tried to cross that, he wished them good luck.

He sat down at his desk with a weary sigh. No time to get anything done, not enough brain power to study.

What he did next, he blamed on muscle memory.

In all honesty, he didn't know what it was. A subconscious habit his short-circuiting brain decided to indulge tonight, a reflex from the summer. He opened a drawer, lifted some papers, picked up the walkie talkie. Clicked it on. Pressed his thumb on the talk button and opened his mouth.

"-!"

The noise died in his throat. He stared at his hand in disbelief, then retracted his thumb with a shameful blip.

What did he think he was going to say? What did he even want to say?

On a theory, he glanced at the clock. It was about the same time they used to talk to each other during the summer. Spooky in a way. He almost made a fool of himself.

What were the chances that she would be on, anyway?

What a joke. He dropped the walkie talkie back in the drawer like it was infected. He didn't really want to talk to her; they had nothing left to talk about. Nothing he cared about, nothing she cared to tell him. She could go ahead and share her recruitment rants with her new best friends. They could go on and on as much as they liked about what a big stupid jerk they thought he was, and the secrets of the forbidden Hisakawa, and their precious drama cl—

 _Tchh!_

He snatched the walkie back up and examined it. What was that static…

Did someone just press a button?

He waited for a few minutes, like an idiot. Waited for a sound that wasn't dead. Out of mere curiosity. And then he realized he was talking to no one. He pressed the talk button again just to send a scoff into dead air. Clicked the power button. Buried the walkie in the drawer where it belonged. Turned off the light and went to bed.

He fell asleep an hour later.

* * *

The walkie made a weird noise when she clicked the power button.

Kind of a _pfft._ Did the batteries die?

She clicked it on, no problem, then back off again. The sound didn't repeat itself.

So what if it had, though? What did she care, she had no need for the damn thing anymore. The only reason she'd needed it was because of one now ex-best friend who didn't use a cell phone like a normal person.

She flung the device under her bed and turned off the lights.

* * *

As if they intensively plotted to disgust him every day, Hejjiguchi and Kurimu were already flirting when he came to class Friday morning.

Or, Kurimu was at her desk scribbling something on a white sheet of paper, and Hejjiguchi was currently perched on his knees in Ayato's chair coyly asking what she was doing.

"—drawing her a picture as a pick-me-up," she told him brightly.

"Looks good, will you draw me one?"

Ayato rolled his eyes heavily. Did they not walk to school with their dear friend Ami? Where was their discretion? One of these days she was going to walk in on something particularly nauseating – and mark his words, that would be the first and only time he'd side with Ami Kawata.

Once he got tired of Mr. Romance pointing at what looked like a butterfly wing and admiring the purple, Ayato cleared his throat.

"Out of my seat, Hejjiguchi," he said.

Hejjiguchi glanced up briefly and threw him a wispy grin. "Before class they're not assigned," he said cheerfully, and borrowed a maroon colored pencil.

Ayato nodded, pretending to mull this over.

"I guess you're right," he said. "But, isn't Kawata a fan of order? Where is she, we should get her opinion on it—"

"Then again, home is where the heart is!" Hejjiguchi leapt out of Ayato's chair and into his own.

"I think you meant, there's no place like home." Feeling possessive, Ayato rested his feet on his desk, then clicked his heels mockingly. "As in, these shoes could've taken you home in two seconds."

A chuckle from Hejjiguchi. "You wouldn't fight in front of a lady," he said. "Oh wait, who am I talking to? You'd even _fight_ a lady."

Ayato scowled, dropped his legs, and went to turn around. "You listen here—"

"If you really wanna start something, buddy—"

"STOP IT!" Kurimu slammed a hand on her desk. Both guys realized simultaneously that they'd trapped her between their bickering. She pointed a sharpened pencil at Ayato, then at Hejjiguchi. "No one's starting _anything!_ Stay in your seats!"

Hejjiguchi meekly settled again. Ayato grimaced and nursed his assaulted eardrums; they were never built to handle Kurimu's pitch.

"Yes _ma'am_ ," Hejjiguchi said lovingly.

A quiver of disgust traveled up Ayato's spine and into his throat. He rubbed his temples and, God help him, waited for Ami to come in. Whatever it took to break up the lovefest.

He blamed Yuri for this.

* * *

She ran into Hejjiguchi at the vending machines between second and third period. He was getting snacks for himself, Kurimu and Ami.

"Blueberry Cheesecake KeyKats are Kurimu's favorite," he said, totally unprovoked.

Yuri nodded and punched the button for her coffee. "Are you acting this sickeningly sweet around Naoi?"

"Yep," said Hejjiguchi. He didn't sound too insulted, more like tickled. Furtively, he glanced over his shoulder for a couple of seconds; then, satisfied, he turned back to Yuri. "It'll be one month for us in a few days, so who's acting, really?"

"Wow, a whole month." She snatched up the can as it rolled into the dispensing tray.

"And as a veteran of romantic relationships—" Yuri's eyes widened from the exertion of forcing herself not to roll them—"I really think you should talk to Naoi about whatever this is. Radio silence isn't going to fix anything. It'll just make things worse." He frowned then, when the snack machine failed to relinquish its hold on the KeyKats. He pounded a fist against the display.

Yuri's eyes narrowed. "What do you know about radio silence," she muttered, popping the lid and taking a sip.

Hejjiguchi pounded the machine a few more times. "Silent treatment. Yelling. Violence. It's never the answer." He backed up a couple of steps and sized up his foe, then started using his shoulder rather than his fist. "Avoidance is a big relationship killer. Yelling leads to spiraling. If you— _oomf—_ care about someone, you've gotta— _oomf—_ talk to the person."

Yuri watched in fascination, taking slow drinks of her coffee. Was he going to headbutt the damn thing next? It would probably make his hair static-y. Not that she'd be fully able to tell. Right now, she wasn't sure whether listening to him give her sensible advice on relationships while mauling the crap out of a vending machine was hilarious or infuriating.

"Now, granted, Kurimu's an easy person to talk to. I don't know what it's like with you and Naoi, but—" he paused, grunting as he started really putting momentum into it, " _somehow_ I get the feeling he makes things more difficult. I'm sure that makes you want to run and hide, but when you've been in the game as long as I have—"

Her drink began to crinkle in her tight grip. _A month_ …?

"—you learn that you can't hide forever." Hejjiguchi gave a definitive nod. "Not from the people you care about."

"I can try," she said wryly.

He sighed, shaking his head at her like he knew she thought she was a lost cause but he could save her. Oh, excuse her, Mister Love Doctor!

"You know, it may surprise you, but I used to be real scared of relationships." He squatted down on the ground and shoved his arm inside the dispensing slot. Up to the semi-muscled forearm. "That's why Ami's crush freaked me out. She has these bridal magazines, and, well, you know me. I wanna be free as a bird."

Yuri would bet every drink in the Key beverage vending machine he was going to get stuck. At this point, she would enjoy that immensely.

"But dating Kurimu taught me that you can be with a best friend. Through thick and thin. If we just talk to each other and stick it out," he grunted again, his fingers visibly wiggling in the display window, "there's no challenge we can't face!"

Had he always talked in clichés? She didn't remember Hejjiguchi ever being this corny. "Oh, so does that mean wedding bells?"

From the ensuing expression of sheer terror and cold sweats on his face, she might've thought the vending machine was about to tip over and crush him dead. Life flashing before his eyes and everything. What was that he said before about fear of relationships?

"Let's not get carried away," he said. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously.

Yuri hummed appreciably. _That's right, one-monther._

She finished her drink, threw it away, and got another one. Apparently she was going to spend the whole break period here watching Hejjiguchi twist and squirm. It was quite a sight, really. She'd get popcorn too if he wasn't currently trying to help the snack machine give birth. If only...

"I know what you're thinking," he said, catching her eye. "Naoi would love to see this."

"I wasn't thinking that," Yuri lied, because that was exactly what had popped into her head.

"You're thinking about him right now."

"No I'm not," Yuri lied again, enraged. She kicked his leg.

He laughed at her, but cautiously wiggled his legs to the side. Did he think that would stop her? She wasn't the one with a limited moving range here.

"Can't just stop thinking about the ones you love because you got hurt," he said. "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."

Yuri glared petulantly at his kickable legs. What did he know? It wasn't like he and Kurimu had ever had a fight in their _looong_ days together. Naoi would've had a field day if they—

Stupid. It was his fault! She was only thinking about certain irritants right now because he brought it up!

"Listen, I don't know the whole story," Hejjiguchi amended, adjusting to stretch his arm deeper in. "You said – something about him not respecting your privacy? So I don't know if it's a space thing, or – Ami said – you didn't like him talking to Hisakawa." He frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think they were flirting or anything—"

She almost choked in indignation. "I'm not jealous!"

"Okay," he said nicely, like he didn't believe her. Yuri snarled quietly. "My point is, hey, I'm sure Naoi said some hurtful things. He's… _Naoi._ " He dug his arm in all the way up to his shoulder. "But you said once I didn't know him like you do. You may not want help in the love department—" Yuri dug her fingernails into her can—"but since you obviously still have feelings for him, you should—"

"I don't," Yuri said.

He continued wrestling with in the vending machine, but side-eyed her skeptically as he did so. "Oh, come on."

"I don't," she told him firmly, unwavering. "I never did. That confession… it was a big fat lie."

He crinkled his brow, then looked at her funny. His movements slowed like he was deep in thought.

"Why would you lie about something like that?" he asked. "Sounds like a cop-out. I mean, you asked me to the bridge—"

"And I didn't show up." She examined her nails, which just seemed like the right sassy thing to do when you were looking down on someone. "Neither did Naoi. It was just _yoooou_ and Kurimu."

Disbelief tightened Hejjiguchi's features, then a wave of realization set them loose.

"You planned it, didn't you?" he said.

"It sure got you guys off his back." Yuri downed the rest of her coffee in a fast, angry gulp, then glowered at it for being empty. "That ungrateful ass. It was one of the best ideas I ever had!"

"Your idea?!" Hejjiguchi yelped. His voice was kind of high, so she looked back at him in interest. "You played us!"

"Yep. Like a fiddle," Yuri agreed, unaffected. She threw the empty can over her shoulder and heard it topple into the bin, which was pretty cool.

"You—I—" He started to get up, but found to his chagrin that his arm wouldn't come with him. Then a warning bell chimed—class would be resuming very soon.

For the first time that day, Yuri smiled.

"But happy early anniversary to the two of you," she said sweetly. "See you at lunch!"

The snack machine rustled and thumped frantically behind her. That should shut Mr. Love Doctor up for a while.

* * *

Hejjiguchi arrived six whole minutes late to third period, which was in and of itself a pleasantness to Ayato's day. But here was the kicker. The reason? He'd gotten his arm stuck in a vending machine. Hejjiguchi didn't look at him, or anyone, while he sat in the back and nursed his pride. And Ami didn't even get to eat her coveted strawberry pocky until next class break.

Ayato smiled for a good fifteen minutes and enjoyed the silence.

* * *

The one downside to spending the entire class break drinking two cans of coffee and watching Hejjiguchi squirm?

She really had to pee.

* * *

Hejjiguchi didn't say much for the rest of the day, which was nice.

Ayato hadn't realized until now that the buffoon was the voice of the troublesome trio – he would have guessed Ami – but when she had little luck badgering some responses out of him, she got kind of miffed and passed notes with Kurimu. But Kurimu never liked going over a note-passing quota ("it's the same as texting!" she'd shrilled nervously at Ami after fourth period. "Didn't you learn your lesson?!" To which Ami replied just as shrilly, "Notes don't chirp!") so that slowed down half an hour before lunch.

Lunch, though – they were noisy around lunch. Mostly because Hejjiguchi didn't want to eat with them. What a bellyacher! Ayato leaned outside the door and listened to his whiny protests.

"I'm not hungry," he was saying. "I just… I gotta go, um, do something? It's nice out, I have to go for a run."

Kurimu had hummed sadly in understanding, but Ami bristled at this.

"Run?" she squawked. "You're going to skip lunch with us to burn more calories? You need your nutrients, Souma Hejjiguchi! You're skin and bones!"

What was she talking about? Hejjiguchi had been regularly sating his sweet tooth ever since he started dating a girl whose mother ran a bakery. And even before that, Yuri had assured him, he didn't exactly eat like a bird.

"What? I'm fine," Hejjiguchi scoffed. "The vending machine sure thought my arm was fat enough. Listen, I'll see you later."

Ami growled a bit.

"Fine," she said doubtfully. "But what, are you going to run for a full 45 minutes? Come by the cafeteria when you get hungry." There was a pause, and then she added as an afterthought, "And bring my strawberry pocky!"

"Sure," he said distractedly.

Ayato heard footsteps, and frowned to himself when he noticed he'd been out here for a good two minutes. God! What was happening to him? Had his life become so pathetic that he was reduced to eavesdropping on these imbeciles?

Hejjiguchi walked out of the classroom, and stopped when he noticed him standing there. "What are you looking at?"

Ayato gave him a bored look. "Will you get me some pocky too? The almond crush, on the top shelf."

His classmate made a dismissive but exasperated noise and threw his hands in the air as he stalked off. With a snort, Ayato pushed himself off the wall and left in the other direction.

He did have better things to do, anyway. Like sulk in the club room.

* * *

Hejjiguchi wasn't at lunch, and by the end of the day, Yuri wasn't sure whether or not she was guilty about it.

Maybe a little, because Kurimu had fretted, and doodled a bunch of little cat faces with wiry lightning bolt-shaped whiskers in a notebook she brought to lunch. She was a nervous doodler, apparently. She'd drawn Yuri a butterfly this morning, which was sweet, so maybe Yuri felt the slightest brush of conscience for putting her boyfriend on edge.

But Hejjiguchi was dumb and insufferable with his upbeat, misplaced romance advice, so he deserved it. And Kurimu needed to just not worry herself sick so much. It would drain years off her life.

Ami, sensing Yuri didn't want to talk about dumb boys, nicely asked her how the recruiting mission was going. Which reminded Yuri that she hadn't done much of anything since Wednesday. Because she kept eating lunch with Ami and thinking about dumb boys!

God! What kind of girl was she turning into?

This was all Naoi's fault, throwing her off her game. Ruining everything because he had to be a big jerk about things that shouldn't matter to him. Things that shouldn't matter at all anymore. Did _she_ demand the excruciating details of people in _his_ past? No! Because she wasn't a pushy brat! Because she respected privacy and comfort over an undying curiosity.

And if that made her a "dodgy bitch" then so be it.

What else had he called her? she wondered as she finished cleaning the classroom after school. Bored little rich girl? It was nice of him to finally show his true colors. Maybe she should forget about recruitment until Monday, go on home to her mansion of a house and do what bored little rich girls do to entertain themselves. Watch television, while he did…

Hang on, what was he up to these days? She couldn't remember him mentioning anything. Well – her parents were going to be home more often at the end of this month since they were on the cusp of festivals season. That was usually the time his dad brought out his best work, so he was probably—

Wait, what did she care?! He didn't care about the stuff _she_ was doing! Not if it didn't benefit _him_.

Yuri scrubbed hard with a washrag, putting all her weight into her palm. Stupid, entitled, nosy, big whiny baby—

"Um, Yuri? I think the counter is clean now," Hirohashi said warily, peeking into the classroom from around the corner. "And… why are you calling it a big whiny baby?"

Yuri muttered some more and tossed the rag over her shoulder. It missed whatever her target was and hit the floor. She walked out the classroom door, still grumbling under her breath.

Hirohashi sweated nervously and edged past her to pick it up. "Okay, see you on Monday."

Outside the building, the school's athletic field was already pretty packed. It looked like the track and field team had merged with another group and they were doing exercises together. Taking turns or doing relay races, Yuri couldn't tell. It was a blur of whistles and yelling and cheers beyond a chain link fence. She scoped the area out for a second, watching some of the baton race as it played out. Then she shifted the strap of her backpack and started down the school steps.

Whoops and screams carried from the field, which would make for good background noise on her walk across campus. It was just loud enough that she couldn't hear herself think. That, she didn't mind so much.

"Go! Go! Go!"

"You can do it, Nezumi!"

"What are you doing, Hejjiguchi?! Run for it!"

Yuri looked up in time to see Hejjiguchi shake his head hard and break into a sprint across the track. Goodness, did she do that? It was a rare day at Akuma High that the track star needed to be told to run anywhere. Didn't he have his one-person cheer team with him today? She did a quick scan of the fence and surrounding area, but Kurimu was nowhere in sight.

Hm, she must have gone home. Guess Yuri didn't even have to stay behind and play interceptor anyway.

"Hejjiguchi, your game's off today!" a girl screamed from the field. "Do your best!"

Yuri froze in her tracks. _That voice…!_

She eyed the field warily. Noted the folded hurdles leaning against fences and benches, waiting to be set up. Spotted the long, thick navy mats where boys and girls alike were chatting and stretching out.

Standing between the fence and the track, one girl (whose features she couldn't decipher) caught her watching and let her sideline cheering die down. She hesitated at first, then gave a little half-wave.

Yuri stared blankly for a second. Then she shook her head, turned on her heel, and walked back into the building.

* * *

 **A/N: R &R! Let me know if you spot any inconsistencies or errors, I've looked the chapter over but not with a fine-toothed comb. **

* * *

**Preview:**

"— _played us like a fiddle!"_

" _Trouble with the missus?"_

" _They're driving me crazy."_

" _Spoken like a true detective."_

" _It makes me sound narcissistic, doesn't it?"_

" _Have you ever been dead?"_

" _Everything doesn't revolve around him!"_

" _Alright, I'll do it."_

" _Welcome aboard!"_

[Chapter 26]: **Solus.**


	26. Solus

**A/N: I'm a dolt. High schools in Japan have sports days, this I knew. A day full of relay races, tug-of-war, gymnastics, and other fun events. The problem is it would've been in early-mid October. I completely missed out on some prime Hejjiguchi/Naoi rivalry opportunities! Among other things... I've edited Chapter 24 only by a sentence or two to mention it, which is better than nothing. But seriously, _fiddlesticks!_**

 **I'd have Akuma High postpone it to late November, but I just don't know if that's worthy of belief-suspension. Oh well. At least the school festival is up ahead. My Clannad feelings are strong with this arc.**

 **Anyways, just got home so this'll be half an hour late. But I'm kinda fond of this chapter, so... enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 26]: Solus_

* * *

At school on Monday, Ayato used silent reading time to prop a book upright and sleep for fifteen minutes because weekends were useless and didn't recharge him at all. Usually he didn't try to pull this since he was never a class snoozer. Plus Kurimu sat behind him, and while _she_ might be too polite to disturb him, he was sure Hejjiguchi would sense her disapproval and gallantly do it for her.

But today he took the chance. He was too damn tired to care, plus Kurimu was too busy turning around and checking on Hejjiguchi to notice. Apparently her boyfriend's sour attitude from Friday had carried into the next week. She whispered to him; he muttered an unintelligible response. Ayato caught her teensy frown in the reflection on the window. She turned around again, whispered some more.

"Nothing," Hejjiguchi grumbled.

It took three more exchanges of that for Kurimu to give up and look sadly at her book. Even Ami sat quietly, after one furiously scribbled note.

Ayato rested. He didn't know when he was going to get a chance like this again.

* * *

If Kurimu's pouty boy toy skipped lunch again, Yuri didn't know about it. She respectfully declined Ami's invitation over text and headed outside. If Ami wanted some extra help on stage or behind the scenes for the play that the drama club was working on, Yuri was going to need to get her ass back into recruiting. She needed to find a new member by, uh, last week.

Ami had kindly given her the plot and script over a week ago, just to look it over. But even if she found someone today, she'd only have three weeks to learn the ropes and help out. Ami's friend Jinko was a good writer, and claimed she'd be able to quickly create a role for Yuri if she wanted, but Yuri suspected that was just niceties. At this point it would be lighting and tech work for her.

Stupid Naoi. This was partially his fault. First with not being any help – she could have at least used moral support – and then putting her into a funk that cost her two whole weekdays! Two weekdays she could have been doing something to be useful to the drama club, to the upcoming festival, actually getting involved and giving back to the school for the first time in _ages._ So excuse her for being overly focused on one topic!

But no, _he_ decided what was important to talk about. And behaved like an asshole and made it about him when she wouldn't get into it.

One thing! One little thing that wasn't worth mentioning, that belonged in the past! He just had to hone in on that one and pitch a big entitled baby fit over it. Calling her a bad friend just because he didn't get what he wanted. And _she_ was the spoiled one?! Who the hell did he think he was?

Oh, right, "the son of the biggest bastard in Akuma." He was seriously over-glorifying himself, but he tended to do that a lot. Meanwhile, she'd laughed in his face at the idea of him ever being a delinquent, and only ever treated him as her friend. But after all these months, he thought he could talk to her like that? Lecture her on Friendship 101?

What a jerk. She was _glad_ he wasn't in her class. Strategically planning her lunch spot was the only thing she had to do to avoid dealing with his crap. When you made friends at school in a small town, it wasn't always as easy as that.

She ate her lunch, quietly scoping out the campus. There was a decent October overcast sky hanging over the school, but no rain, so students were eating outside and enjoying a light breeze that coupled nicely with the season's lingering warmth. Some were loners, lying under trees with their arms crossed behind their head. Others were athletes or generally upbeat kids who crowded together in a boisterous tight-knit group on the grass. And then there were a select few who might be artsy or dramatic, the ones who sat on the fountain edge for the aesthetic.

That had been Naoi's theory, anyway. But she'd gone up to the spot once as he'd suggested and tried to recruit, and the two she'd asked were already in the art club. They'd be happy to illustrate scenes for the drama club, of course! That was great, just not what Yuri had needed at the moment. She eyed the crowd now. Different girls, but they were laughing together and comparing sketchpads.

The grass rippled invitingly towards a small group of students lounging under the shade of a tree. Yuri took a long sip of her drink and regarded them for a moment, trying to read their vibe.

Hmm… One girl was cloud-gazing – with some very unnecessary and flashy (but admittedly cute) sunglasses. Just lying there in a tranquil state, apparently saying something that made the dark-haired guy next to her peer down at her through his own glasses with fond puzzlement. Behind them, closer to the tree, another lanky guy was happily arguing through a mouthful of food with a bushy-haired girl who possibly just wanted to read the open book in her lap.

Yuri had read enough manga to recognize the situation. This had all the potential ingredients of a driven group of students who were _just_ lazy enough to not yet have anything better to do until it was dropped into their laps. She crushed her drink can in excitement. It was perfect!

A jolt of inspiration bringing her to her feet, she glanced over her shoulder with a grin. But she caught herself just in time to close her mouth before she could tell a soul that wasn't there, "Target spotted."

Damn muscle memory. Naoi wasn't in this with her. Well, he never was, but now he wasn't even in his spot.

It was _his_ spot. And it was empty. She was people-watching alone.

The thought was instantly sobering. There was absolutely nothing fun about people-watching when it was just her. She'd only ever done it with a friend – it was at least a two-person sport. And while she still did it on her own from time to time, for knowledge purposes, actually going up to people after staring at them for a long time was way different. She didn't just go up to people she barely knew and start a conversation.

Then again, she had done that with Naoi. But it was different with him for some reason, the… the blood bond and all.

Yuri frowned. She hadn't thought about that in what felt like a very long time.

It was a ridiculous label, really. A cheap, flowery title she'd come up with to explain why she'd cared, why she'd bothered to seek him out the way she did. The reality was, it didn't have to be some sort of "souls destined to meet each other" concept. That was dangerous thinking, misjudging a bond's mortality. Some people just clicked together – and the right impact could tear them apart.

Her energy zapped, she went to sit back down. Maybe brood for a little bit. Her nails dug into the stone of the bench as she toed the dirt with her shoe. Then she growled under her breath, jumped up, and started walking in the direction of the dramatically billowing grass. It was stupid to let Naoi indirectly hold her back on this mission for one more second.

After all, she could do whatever she wanted. It was up to her and her alone, and she didn't have time for anyone who thought otherwise.

* * *

Traffic was sparse outside the club room after lunch, so Ayato took to the halls at a leisurely stride, hands stuffed in his pockets as he made a few necessary mental calculations. There was no rush, considering who he had a good chance of running into.

Now that she had no obligations to him, she had likely eaten in the cafeteria with her new good friends. Meeting them head-on at the classroom door was the last thing he wanted to deal with today. Though – Hejjiguchi was still in a hilariously foul mood, so he could've bailed on the other three again. Which meant… ugh, a prattling group of schoolgirls. There was already something unfathomably tense about girls giggling together and falling pin-drop silent when they saw you. For Yuri to be in the middle of it…

He shook his head and decided to pick up the pace. It might be better to just get there first; unless she walked into his classroom, which he doubted she would, there would be no problem between the two of them.

After all, he'd hate to be a time-waster. He scoffed to himself. God knew she already had plenty of those.

He drifted around corners and down hallways increasingly populated with faceless nobodies. If he kept walking and staring ahead, they would weave around him, their voices a dull thrumming lost on the air.

It was better this way, more peaceful. He'd just needed to recalibrate and screw his head back into place. Now he could go back to coasting through the school day without worrying about idiotic things, like which complete stranger of a classmate seemed more like a thespian, or was that guy staring at him or just drooling over Yuri, or whether or not one annoying classmate secretly liked the other, or how long could he risk lollygagging after school with Yuri without enraging Kimito?

In fact, he could make the argument that most of his problems as of late had originated with Yuri somehow. Like at the baseball game – it was Yuri who talked about Kurimu and called her cute. Ami had overheard and pulled it all out of proportion. His stricter schedule? A consequence of hanging out with Yuri. And the coffee mug incident – well, that was self-explanatory.

These past few months had been… unstable, to say the least. He had spent them making every effort to be her friend. Being stupidly daring, reckless—just like her. Extending his boundaries upon her request! And for what? For her to push him away when he dared test hers?

" _Friends don't hide from each other!"_

" _What the hell would you know about it?"_

That, there. That had been telling. She'd all but plainly revealed what she thought of him. A friendless fledgling, a paltry sidekick. It was true he'd been socially negligent before he met her, due to name and circumstance and just not giving a damn. But then she came along and made her mark, she was new and interesting and she understood, and he had done what he could to spend time with her since she made Akuma seem like more than just a prison.

And all along, what was she doing? Dragging him places, calling the shots. Letting him into her home life but nothing else. There was a wall up between them and he didn't know what it was made of.

The more he thought about it, the more the injustice seared under his skin. Why was she allowed to heroically interfere with his issues when he wasn't even allowed to know hers? Whatever it was, it clearly bothered her if she refused to talk about it.

Ayato scowled as the irritating hum of socialization grew louder, and escaped down a quieter corridor to untangle his convoluted thoughts in peace.

Or else, she just didn't want to talk about it with him. And he couldn't think of any plausible reason for that, for him knowing less than Hejjiguchi and Ami, other than simply this: he had severely overestimated what he was to her. Little more than a phase who had misjudged his place. The power had always been in her hands; until now he had been too blind to see it.

Clenching his teeth, he growled quietly. There was some sort of arguing going on within earshot so he buried the urge to kick a locker.

She had played him. Played him like—

"—played us like a fiddle! Her words exactly!"

Ayato's ears pricked up. Though he'd never heard it so shrill, the voice was one he recognized. He rounded the corner with piqued curiosity and confirmed his suspicions. The infamous secret couple was huddled up in a corner near some lockers, Hejjiguchi clearly extremely riled up about something and Kurimu looking unhappy and confused at the other end of it. They instantly went quiet when they noticed him, but the air remained tense between the two.

What were they doing here alone? Ayato eyed them speculatively, then glanced down the hall. No sign of Ami or Yuri. Hadn't Kurimu joined their happy little group for lunch today? Or was it just the two of them here, having a lover's quarrel?

Hejjiguchi's face, having gone sheet white at the sight of him, had now twisted into blatant impatience and intolerance. It made Ayato grin for the first time that day. Seeing him still in such a rotten mood… the stark contrast to his usual perky confidence was laughable.

"Trouble with the missus?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at him.

Hejjiguchi wasn't as amused as he was.

"Look who's talking," he said curtly. "Why don't you stay out of our business for once?"

Ayato sucked in his cheeks, dumbfounded. The sheer hypocrisy of that question – he could've choked on his tongue!

"Idiot," he huffed, turning and dismissing them with a small headshake as he headed down the hall to their classroom. "I never wanted anything to do with you in the first place."

Which still had every ounce of truth to it, he'd mused to himself as he took his seat, so it thoroughly annoyed him that he was still wondering what those two could possibly be at odds about. He found peace of mind by attributing it to mild sadistic interest in Hejjiguchi's displeasure. But it was still disconcerting, that lingering attachment.

Again, Yuri's fault.

But with seating the way it was, some involvement was unavoidable. Ami came in with Hejjiguchi a mere minute before class started, chattering incessantly about costume design and outlines and just _how_ was she supposed to keep track of all this stuff when she couldn't even keep track of her own best friends? Hejjiguchi only replied in grunts and mindless agreement. Knowing she had lost her audience, Ami heaved a theatric sigh and hoped aloud that dear Kurimu wouldn't take too much longer in the restroom.

In fact, Kurimu was an entire seventy seconds late. She took the baffled teacher's chastising submissively and returned to her seat in silence.

But the silence didn't last all day. Oh, no. The whispering from earlier this morning came back with a vengeance, only this time it was _snippy._ Ayato didn't even know the docile girl was capable of being snippy. Indignant, yes, but that never carried quite the same bite.

This was highly entertaining at first. By the end of the day, the cold quips had lost some of its charm. They could at least have the courtesy to pass notes.

After school, during cleaning time, the threat of a teacher's agitated shush was gone. Suffice it to say, they took that time to speak a little more freely to each other. He didn't care to eavesdrop this time, but whatever it was they were on about, it sounded rather petty.

At one point, unthinking, he turned to Ami and said, "What's with them?"

Ami, likely just as fed up or too concerned to be angry with him, had gone back and forth between chewing her lip and rolling her eyes at her friends.

"I don't know," she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation, "but they're driving me crazy."

A little unnerved by their civil exchange, and frankly bored of Hejjiguchi's bad mood for the day, Ayato went to clean up the counters on the other side of the room. Masuda was there by the chalkboard, dutifully wiping off the dust, and seemed to be safer company. He saw him coming and tossed him a cleaner washcloth.

"What's going on over there?" he asked, throwing a subtle gesture over his shoulder.

Ayato shrugged, pretending to be very interested in the counters. "Don't know, don't care."

Masuda laughed. "Spoken like a true detective."

"I'm told that's more your specialty."

Ayato tried to hold back a grimace, then. He'd forgotten – Yuri had mentioned that about him, because she and Masuda were such good friends now. Hopefully he wouldn't want to talk about her.

Mercifully, Masuda just nodded and continued scrubbing the blackboard.

"To an extent. I usually leave sleuthing out of the classroom." Ami's angry squawk in the background made him flinch for a second, then he shook his head. "Today, those three are hard to ignore."

"You're telling me," Ayato scoffed, unleashing his wrath on a particularly stubborn dirt spot. "I swear the universe strategically placed them around me purely for the sake of my suffering."

Masuda looked quietly amused by this. "That's an interesting branch of solipsism."

He stopped wiping. "Solipsism?"

"A philosophical view. The holder of the belief sees himself as the only entity in the universe that's sure to exist – anyone else is ornamental."

"I knew that," Ayato insisted. "I just…"

"You don't relate?"

He chewed the inside of his lip and wiped down the side of one of the cabinets. It wasn't that Masuda had purposefully insulted him – his classmate sounded genuinely into philosophy – but the concept of solipsism as attributed to him rubbed him the wrong way.

"Well, it makes me sound narcissistic, doesn't it?" he said.

His mind, of its own accord, traveled back to Wednesday. _You act like it doesn't matter, just because you don't like Ami and you don't care about it!_ Maybe Masuda and Yuri spent their afternoons talking about how selfish he was, and this talk of solipsism was no coincidence.

Ayato stopped that thought in its tracks and rolled his eyes at himself, opening the window for Masuda so he could clap the erasers outside. Honestly, when did his thoughts get so irrational?

"It's a little egocentric in theory," Masuda said agreeably, reeling his head back to acknowledge Ayato's question and avoid chalk dust at the same time. "But solipsism is more about certainty. You are the only consciousness you can verify to exist."

"Huh," Ayato said, skeptical. If that were the case, it would mean that theoretically, it was possible for certain people to vanish from existence. It'd be _his_ existence, after all. With enough mental power he could do it himself.

Kind of like God in a sense. What a world to live in. It seemed philosophy was more interesting than he thought.

A minute or two passed as they left each other in a thoughtful silence. Masuda wiped residual chalk dust from the windows while Ayato swept the cracks under the blackboard and contemplated a world of his own.

"What's the opposite?"

Masuda glanced over his shoulder at him, puzzled. "Opposite…? Of solipsism?"

"If you aren't even sure that you yourself exist," Ayato said.

His classmate looked intrigued and a little impressed. He disappeared into his head for a moment, as if thumbing through a mental philosophy textbook he hadn't finished yet.

"Cotard's syndrome," he answered with a wry grin. "Have you ever been dead?"

"Depends on who you ask."

Masuda laughed first, and then the absurdity of the statement hit Ayato and he snorted too, shaking his head at the direction this conversation had gone. He was glad he'd stopped himself before making a dark quip like "my father says I'm dead to him," though he imagined his nihilistic humor would be better received by Masuda. With Yuri it was always a swing and a miss.

Admittedly, Ayato had never heard of Cotard's syndrome before, so they talked about that until cleaning time was over. It was by all accounts a macabre conversation, and he had more existential crises coming out of it than he did going in, but it had its perks. Like drowning out all other obnoxious things into non-existence.

Including, most blessedly, his own thoughts.

* * *

In Yuri's personal opinion, everything was terrible. Most of all the month of October, which was obviously cursed and going way too fast to be anything other than supernatural.

She was hanging out in the classroom after school again, just as she had done on Friday. Ami had texted her and said since they didn't see each other at lunch, she really hoped they'd get to hang out after drama club. Apparently Hejjiguchi and Kurimu were stressing her out and so were some of her fellow drama members, so she needed some distance from all that.

And though Ami didn't know it, Yuri was probably responsible for at least 60% of that. Hejjiguchi was probably still mad about being duped, and on top of that, recruiting had been a failure during lunch.

To think, Naoi had claimed once that she had _charisma_. Another thing he obviously didn't know what he was talking about! She couldn't persuade a fish to join a river. It just wasn't in her anymore.

 _You're giving up too easily,_ a thought mused to her. _You're not trying hard enough._

Screw that! She'd been busting her ass! Hadn't she? Focusing so hard on the damn thing she'd bored a whole best friend away.

 _It's not enough. It shouldn't even be this hard! If you were really doing everything you could, the operation would be over by now and Ami wouldn't be struggling—_

"Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" Yuri clutched her hair and sunk her head onto the desk.

"Homework problems?"

Her head shot back up. She hadn't even heard the door; maybe she'd accidentally left it open all this time. Then again, Masuda had a quiet way to him. He'd probably snuck in while her brain was chewing her out.

She offered him a weak smile. "Among other things."

She'd hung out with him on Friday, but they hadn't talked a whole lot. She hadn't wanted to, and he seemed okay with that. Didn't really press the matter after a couple of initial questions. Something told her today he wouldn't be giving her the same courtesy.

Ten, fifteen minutes or so passed with them working on homework in comfortable silence. In the few days they'd done this together, she'd learned his homework state was extremely focused, almost meditative. In his own little world. And so she foolishly allowed herself to let her guard down.

Was that… was that what she'd been like with Naoi? So fixated on one thing that you couldn't _snap_ her out of it?

No, it wasn't like that. She'd talked to him, tried to include him, kept him by her side. She knew he didn't like Ami very much so she did what she could to keep both sides happy with the least connection between the two. And it still wasn't enough for him?

She wondered what he and Hisakawa had talked about. Maybe she'd put a bunch of petty thoughts into his head, maybe that was why he started acting so weird. Some bullshit about novelty and hiding and questioning her loyalty.

Because God, she was just _such_ a horrible friend…

"Are you alright?" Masuda asked.

Yuri startled in her seat for the second time in less than twenty minutes. Why did he always sneak up on her like that?!

"I'm fine," she sniffed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were prickling and she hadn't noticed until now, but he probably had. Like a creep. What was he, spying on her? "It's nothing."

As expected, Masuda wasn't convinced. And why should he be? She'd thrown in "it's nothing," like a complete moron. Of course he would immediately suspect it was something. That always meant it was something.

Masuda regarded her calmly for a moment, narrowed eyes clearly trying to put something together in his head.

Then he said, "Is it Naoi? Are you guys fighting or something?"

God! Why were boys so nosy?

"Why does it have to be about Naoi?!" she hollered defensively. "What is he, the center of the universe? Everything doesn't revolve around him!"

Masuda broke into a grin in the middle of her rant. What the hell was so funny?!

"Sorry," he said, once his smirk had faded. "I just assumed. Lately in class he's been acting kind of—"

"Like an asshole?" Yuri raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "That's just him."

"I was going to say peaky, or blasé…" Masuda shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "But I suppose you've answered my question."

"It's not just Naoi," she grumbled. She really hated the idea of anyone thinking she would ever cry over a boy. Not that she was actually crying. "It's a whole bunch of things."

But as she spent the next, what, seven minutes complaining to him, there was just enough mention of Naoi in the conversation to be noticeable and embarrassing. And Masuda took to getting this awful sympathetic look whenever she abruptly switched topics on him. Maybe it wasn't obvious, but he was usually solemn for the most part so even a tiny change in expression was more pronounced in his features.

He did agree with her, though, on the privacy thing.

"So you don't think I'm being unreasonable either, right?" she'd asked him.

Masuda had shrugged it off. "I'm not one to play counselor to anyone's trust issues," he said. "On the one hand, it sounds like it'd be easier to just tell him. Then again, everyone has their secrets."

Yuri had nodded, basking in the vindication for a moment. Then he'd let her rant about recruiting some more, but he'd cut in briefly and asked her "wait, why are you doing this again?" and _ugh_ , he'd sounded just like Naoi! So she reminded him about the drama club thing, which branched back to her scheme to befriend Ami to… Well, then she'd had to entrust him with the secret of Hejjiguchi and Kurimu's relationship, but it wasn't like she was being careful with their romance lately anyway. And Masuda was the private type so she doubted very severely that she'd have to worry about him blabbing.

She even told him about her _first_ operation, the matchmaking scheme to free Naoi from the flirting. Masuda had gawped at her. "My roommates and I did something like that once," he said, with the widened eyes of a tired soul who had seen some shit. He then regaled her with the time Miyake and Hachihama got it into their heads a few years ago that Hirohashi had a crush on a shy classmate of his. Laughing over the zany schemes Miyake dragged him into (deliberate power outages and trying to scare the poor girl into his arms), Yuri felt soothingly normal in comparison.

It was nice. Watching the range of emotions that flashed across Masuda's face as he recalled the bizarre things Miyake convinced him to do even as a younger teen. The face-palm he did when he told her how Hachihama accidentally kicked a soccer ball at the girl's face. Snorting with laughter when Masuda said that in their defense, she did fall for Hirohashi after he saved her.

Geez, no wonder Masuda did homework here at school. For that, she was grateful to his silly roommates.

She didn't realize how much she'd lost track of time until she casually glanced at her phone while Masuda was telling her about the time Hachihama drew on his face. Had it seriously already been an hour?

"Wait, crap!" Yuri said, grabbing her books. "I've gotta go meet up with Ami."

Masuda checked the time himself and nodded. "I should get going too. The story's almost over, do you want to walk and talk?"

"Sure, sounds good."

Then she paused in the middle of putting her things in her backpack and considered him for a moment as an idea came to her. Where was her head? Why hadn't she thought of this before?

"Hang on…" Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she eyed him hopefully. "Masuda, why don't _you_ join drama club with me?"

The poor guy stared back at her as though she'd asked him to wear a clown suit.

"The drama club? Me?" he repeated, skeptical. "Yuri, I stay here after class to _avoid_ drama."

" _Masuda_ , this is a high school. You can't avoid drama."

Her delivery must've been spot on, because Masuda's stubbornness faltered as he failed to hide a smirk. They both at least had an inkling of how true that really was. His resistance was clear in his furrowed brows, but she saw something wavering behind his eyes. Curiosity? Temptation? Whatever it was, she knew she had to jump on it.

"Come on," Yuri prodded him. She went and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. He wouldn't get past without a guilt trip. "There's only a few weeks until the school festival. They're counting on me, but I can't join unless you're the tenth! Nine is unlucky!"

"That's just superstition," Masuda said, unimpressed.

"Theatre groups don't take any chances!" She batted her eyes at him – an undignified move, but it had a good success rate. "Please? It'll be fun. You don't even have to act or anything. You could be in charge of the lighting or curtains or directing! Behind the scenes stuff!"

He gave her a stony, dubious look. But she knew… oh, she knew his resolve was breaking.

Now for her ace in the hole.

"It'll mean more time away from Miyake and Hachihama…" she singsonged.

Bingo. The cogs in his head turned faster at the suggestion, making his eyes just a bit brighter. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"…Alright, I'll do it," he said, and picked up his bag. "I suppose I could use an extracurricular activity."

"YES!" Yuri practically screamed, pumping a fist into the air in triumph.

And that was the last Masuda had free rein of his arm. Yuri happily pulled him along down the hall to the drama club. Right on time, too – just as she was about to knock, the door to the club room rumbled open. A few girls who were just leaving might've said hello to her, but she barely heard them as she navigated her way past them into the room. Ami was still inside, leaning down to put some CDs into her backpack.

"Ami!" The girl jumped at the noise. Yuri knew she was being loud, but she didn't care; she could hardly contain herself from doing an embarrassing little dance. "I finally found a tenth member!"

Apparently she wasn't alone in her excitement – Ami stood up so fast she forgot to zip up her bag.

"That's great!" she squealed, and half her CDs clattered noisily to the floor.

As she stared down at them in open-mouthed mortification, Yuri and Masuda quickly joined her to help pick them up. She smacked herself in the forehead with a little sigh and knelt down to join them.

"This could not come at a better time," Ami said tiredly, holding her bag open so Masuda could drop a handful into it. "Thank you."

Despite the CD fiasco, Yuri was still grinning to herself when they all got back on their feet.

"Now that that's over with," she cleared her throat and gestured to Masuda, presenting him to Ami. "Meet the second new addition to the drama club."

Ami beamed, sizing him up as if trying to place him from somewhere.

"Welcome aboard!" she said cheerfully, extending a hand to him. "I'm Ami Kawata of Class B."

"And I'm Eisuke Masuda." He gave an awkward chuckle. "Also Class B."

A rosy pink bloomed in Ami's cheeks. She retracted her hand and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh, I'm sorry! I knew you looked familiar. I'm just really out of sorts these days…"

"It's alright, I sit closer to the front and don't draw a lot of attention to myself," Masuda said nicely. He grinned and bowed respectfully. "It's very nice to meet you, Kawata."

"You can call me Ami if you want. All the drama club members do."

Yuri sank down in a chair with a sigh of relief, exhausted but happy to listen to the two get acquainted. Operation: complete! And a job well done, if she did say so herself.

It just… She frowned to herself. It was missing something.

Someone to celebrate with.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you like Masuda as much as I do. Let me know if there are any inconsistencies I missed!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Meet the newest addition to the drama club!"_

" _Was this kid okay?"_

" _Everybody, do your best!"_

" _What did you get me into?"_

" _You have got to be KIDDING me!"_

" _We never should have been dating in the first place."_

" _Any parts resonate with you?"_

" _You_ just _got back."_

[Chapter 27]: **Saudade.**


	27. Saudade

**A/N: Now that Masuda's recruited, we get a little deeper into the drama club subplot. Feel free to correct me if you know high school theatre better than I do - it's been a few years! Also, fun fact for the chapter title: the word "saudade," as defined by dear Google, means "a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia that is supposedly characteristic of the Portuguese or Brazilian temperament." I felt it was the best word I was looking for to capture the feeling of this chapter. Or arc, or fic.**

 **I got just far enough into Chapter 32 to give 31 some preview quotes, so this arc is gonna end at 31. Then it's back to Heartbreak Cure for a while.**

 **For now, enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 27]: Saudade_

* * *

Festival season was, famously in the potter world and infamously in his, the most hectic few weeks Ayato had ever known. Worse than Christmas. It was also the longest, so when he woke up on Thursday for morning chores, it was in fact still only _Tuesday_ and he had a dreary week ahead of him.

Kimito sent him to the store early and had him stocking shelves until the last minute. He left for school from there, distinctly grumpy from an empty stomach but otherwise glad to not pass the fork in the forest path on his way. Well, he had passed it this morning on the way to the store, but his mind had been otherwise occupied.

How was the school festival two and a half weeks away? This month felt like it was dragging on forever.

So many sunny days, too. Pleasant, mild warmth and wind, day after day. How boring – it looked like autumn, now it needed to start feeling like it. Actually he was even ready for winter at this point, just for a change of pace. Not because his birthday was in mid-December. More because it would be slightly amusing to see the tree-dangler dolts try to roughhouse when they were bundled in layers. Some frostbite might even humble them a bit.

He could hear Kurimu from all the way out in the hall when he headed to class that morning. It was a higher pitch than usual, the same squeak she'd had when he'd asked her to the bridge only a month ago. That girl's pipes could shatter some windows. She wasn't yelling or anything, but really… for the sake of everyone's hearing abilities, people should think twice before they put her on edge.

Sure enough, she and Hejjiguchi were facing Ami in what seemed like an off-brand version of their usual before-class gossip sessions. Kurimu's eyes were big and bright, almost comically so, as if she had bought lenses from a joke shop. It very much mismatched with the smile plastered on her face as she talked to Ami, and only faltered when Hejjiguchi muttered something behind her. Which was often, apparently. He was leaning the full weight of his head on his arm, half-lidded eyes dimmed dull, half a slouch away from sleeping on his desk.

Ayato hid a slight half-smile; he'd forgotten about Hejjiguchi's bad mood. At least that was something to brighten his mornings.

Ami turned around when she heard the door open, looking very desperate with a sour twist to her mouth. When she saw it was just him, she ruffled with dismay, which provided further amusement for him. She must've been hoping he was the teacher coming to put an end to the squabbling.

He still didn't even know what they were arguing about. It wasn't worth trying to eavesdrop, and besides that they weren't exactly about to speak freely around Ami. Instead it was petty comments and immaturity and offended sniffs, behavior of that ilk. Obvious commentary muttered under Hejjiguchi's breath that Ayato was sure had a double meaning. So childish! Ayato bit his mouth to mute his snickering.

The circumstances weren't quite as humorous to Ami, who kept sighing at her friends impatiently and trying to get the conversation back on track. But when Kurimu _again_ demanded to know what Hejjiguchi had meant by an offhanded comment, Ami gave up and slumped in her seat. She pulled her phone out of her bag and started angry-texting.

After another minute of nothing but muttering and offended squeaks and _tap-tap-taps,_ the classroom door rumbled open again. Ami idly cast a glance towards the front of the room – and lit up like she'd seen the answer to all her problems.

"Masuda-kun!" she said joyfully, leaping up. Her phone fell out of her hand and bounced off her bag, but she didn't seem to notice. She ran to the front of the aisle to meet him and took to the poor guy like a drowning person to a life preserver. "I forgot to thank you for yesterday!"

Masuda blinked owlishly, unsteadied by the impact and very much caught off-guard. Ayato caught his eye and smirked at him in sympathy, but he was just as confused as he was.

From the back, Hejjiguchi genuinely laughed when he noticed Masuda's baffled expression.

"Yeah, she's a hugger," he warned.

Ami broke away quickly to shoot Hejjiguchi a flustered kind of scolding pout, but in the midst of her exasperation she was still clearly relieved.

"Guys," she said crisply, whining but still happy. "I've been trying to tell you the good news _all morning._ Meet the newest addition to the drama club!"

Kurimu said something excitedly behind him, but he didn't hear her. Something about Yuri. He stared at Masuda in confusion, feeling the grin on his face slowly disintegrate into a frown.

Him? Yuri had recruited _him?_

Of course she had, she'd spent that one lunch period talking about just how cool and interesting he was. Now they'd be spending their time after school together, but he supposed they'd been doing that already. He wondered where they'd find time to rehearse in between their revealing heart-to-hearts and deep philosophical talks about how narcissistic Ayato was.

And he thought Yuri had been looking for clear-cut thespians, or at least budding ones. For someone with the physical features of a recurring anime character, Masuda didn't really stand out in the crowd. While he wasn't stone cold or anything, he still didn't exactly seem like the most expressive of students.

But what did he know? He was only in the same class as him. Yuri had obviously seen fit to get to know him better.

So Yuri's recruitment mission was over. That didn't change anything. No doubt she'd be working hard with Ami and Masuda to get ready for the school festival. Another mission – that would make her happy.

Kurimu talked to Masuda and Ami excitedly about drama club and the play for a bit, having lost most of her shrillness. Hejjiguchi, on the other hand, quickly lost his interest and descended back into lazy grunts.

Silent study time could not have come quick enough.

* * *

With recruitment a thing of the past, Yuri resumed eating lunch in the cafeteria with Ami and company. She was pleasantly surprised to find, upon arrival, that "and company" now included Masuda.

Ami had wisely chosen to sit between Kurimu and Hejjiguchi. Masuda sat across from Hejjiguchi, and she didn't know who had roped the other into a conversation but the latter seemed content to chat amiably away about track and field. Hey, whatever kept him from bumming Kurimu out. From what Yuri could tell from Ami's texts, the guy was still being a real sourpuss. Ami's term, not hers.

Kurimu – precious, soft, suspiciously bright-eyed Kurimu – was decorating a sheet of paper with what looked like cake patterns. She would soon run out of blank space, but Yuri spotted more pages sticking out of a black sketchbook. Nervous drawing again, the poor dear. Lots of flowers. She laughed loudly at something Ami said and drank her strawberry milk fast and asked about the storyline for the play.

And, well, Ami had told Yuri about it a couple of times and she'd read the script—okay, she'd _skimmed_ it—but she hadn't actually been… on the ball, recently? With the Naoi thing, and recruitment and all. So she listened closely this time as Ami explained it to Kurimu and Masuda.

"So Jinko visits her aunt a lot, and when she was a kid, she was friends with her aunt's neighbor's daughter," Ami said, bursting with energy as she sipped Key coffee through a straw. Yuri nodded her approval; it was nice to have friends with good taste. "For privacy's sake, we'll call her Hanazawa. That's the name we're using for the play."

Yuri hummed in acknowledgement; she faintly remembered seeing the name in the script.

"Jinko used to play with her all the time—she says that's where she got her imagination," Ami continued fondly. "Hanazawa was really good at playing pretend. But there was this one story idea she liked the best. In it, there's a very weak girl. She's sick and sad because she's lost her heart. It got bad so doctors took it from her. She hid away because no one wanted to play with a heartless girl—"

"Geez," said Hejjiguchi, already sounding depressed. "Was this kid okay?"

Ami gave him a look, but Yuri quietly shared his grimace. The story was already breaking her own heart.

"It gets better," she promised. "The girl makes a friend. She starts going places, fishing, gardening, picking flowers, exploring caves and finding more and more friends along the way. And she becomes strong again, as each friend gives her a piece of their heart. She eventually feels a whole heart beating in her chest. It makes her brave too, and she vows to do whatever she can for her friends because she's not scared or alone anymore. So Jinko took all that and made it into a story!"

"Does she have permission?" Masuda asked curiously.

"Oh, yeah!" Ami assured him, waving a hand dismissively. "Tachibana said it was fine. She even—oh, that's her real name by the way—she even reminded her of the hide-and-seek storyline. Where all the friends disappear or get in trouble or something, and she's able to follow the pieces of her heart to find them again and save them. I thought that was cute, so we're using that as the conflict."

Cute. Yuri almost laughed out loud. Sure, that was a word for it. It had a hopeful sweetness for sure, but also had that classic characteristic of a children's story where if you took it a little more seriously, its roots were dark as hell. After hearing all of that, what she really wanted to do was give this poor Tachibana girl a hug. What kind of kid incorporated heart disease into their child's play?

There was symbolism there, though. She liked it – very hard-hitting. Maybe she'd give the script a re-read.

Ami already had the role of Hanazawa of course. With Jinko playing the first friend, just as she'd done in her childhood. Tachibana had told her once that it was meant to be a boy, but they had played the game so often with each other that she couldn't remember it as anything other than Jinko.

"Somebody should tell Tachibana to come see the play," Kurimu said blithely, coloring in a section of her decorations with sunflower yellow. "I think Jinko would like that, don't you?"

"Shouldn't have to tell her to do anything," said Hejjiguchi loftily, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his neck. "If she wants to see it, she'll come see it."

Ami gave him an odd look, while Yuri's and Kurimu's were simultaneously frosty. Come on, what the hell? Was that really necessary? Or was he muttering just to mutter things?

What a baby. What an absolute giant man-child. There were too many of those in this school.

(Thank goodness for Masuda.)

"Anyways," Ami said, and Yuri mentally applauded her sass. "That's a really good idea, Kurimu! But Misako and I, we already invited her and she doesn't know if she can. She's the student body president so she thinks she should be at her own school festival."

"That's fair," Kurimu said softly. She went back to doodling and coloring.

And that had been lunch. Hejjiguchi saying weird things, Kurimu pouting all over the place and doodling furiously. Sometimes listening to Ami, Yuri, and Masuda discuss a game plan for the performance.

Then after school, it dwindled down to Ami, Yuri, and Masuda as the drama club formally welcomed them into their group. The initiation mini-party was about ten minutes, tops, but Yuri understood. Best not to waste any time. They did have plenty of snacks and sodas, which was cool. Ami gleefully indulged in strawberry pocky before they got down to business.

"All right," said Misako, clapping her hands. She was a tall, thick, wavy-haired brunette with a semi-husky voice that made it easy for people to listen to her as director. "Cast list is on the wall if you want to look it over. We can always use understudies!" Yuri and Masuda nodded, not really expecting or shooting for anything more. Misako pointed to Masuda. "Masuda, how do you feel about lighting?"

"I can do that," he said confidently.

"Good. You'll be helping Watanabe with that." She turned to Yuri, who gave her a mock salute. "And Yuri – Ami told me you were interested in tech?"

"I know my way around computers," Yuri said with a shrug.

Misako nodded. "I'll put you in charge of sound, effects, general tech stuff. Ami's been trying to figure out a soundtrack as well as costumes, so you're not restricted to anything. Remember, the school festival is three weeks – we need all the help we can get."

"That's right," said Watanabe, the short and skinny to Misako's tall and thick. He had burnt orange hair and glasses framing a round face, which made his commanding voice that much more unexpected. "Everybody, do your best!"

The cast consisted of six people including the main two. Ami, Jinko, Sayuki, Kaori, and Horigoshi as the five friends, and Matsumoto playing the roles of various villains (sea creature, the demon, mysterious disembodied voice). To do so much with so few people… Yuri was a little impressed.

"Six? That's nothing," said Sayuki, a small girl with a short crop of black hair that was more in her eyes than it was on her head. "I did some research on other school's performances. Years ago, this one guy wrote, sang, and acted for a bunch of his own plays."

"Let me guess." Kaori, tall with shaggy chin-length hair, looked down at Sayuki expectantly. "Akio Furukawa again, right?"

"Hmm," Sayuki confirmed. For a moment, she looked dazed. "Did you ever watch the old videos I found of him? He was such a good actor, and handsome too…"

Kaori sighed. "Oh no, we got her started."

While Kaori rhythmically snapped in front of Sayuki's starry eyes, Yuri joined Ami and Watanabe just in time to overhear their conversation with Masuda over by a bunch of stacked boxes in the corner.

"—all the time," Masuda was saying, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "You name it, they've dressed up as it. Or forced me into it. As embarrassing as it is, I can bring in quite a selection if you'd like."

Ami and Watanabe were cracking up – she must've missed some juicy details.

"Well if you can arrange it, that'd be great!" Ami said enthusiastically, hands clasped as if in grateful prayer. "That's one more thing off my shoulders."

"Just one condition," said Watanabe.

Masuda raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "What's that?"

Watanabe and Ami exchanged glances, then beamed at him unabashedly. "We want pictures."

"Ugh," said Masuda, facepalming. He stopped and considered for a second. "Well—"

"Of you," Ami added.

Masuda cast a tired look over his shoulder at Yuri. "What did you get me into?"

Yuri smiled sweetly, thumping him on the back. "Curtain up!"

After all, what was he complaining about? Who knows, maybe this kind of chaos was exactly what he needed. Good old-fashioned rib-jabbing, mind-hogging chaos.

Or maybe that was just her?

* * *

For Ayato, the days were beginning to blur together. Every one of them was Thursday to him – stuck in a very long, drawn out whirlwind of an abyss with a break just out of reach.

His sleeps were dreamless lately. Or maybe he was just getting a terrible memory. If anything, this was the season of dreaming in pottery. Kimito was making sure that was the only thing on his mind. He felt like the Hatter being punished by the Red Queen, locked in a room filled with hats and doomed to an eternity of making more.

The Mad Potter of Akuma. Maybe he'd get his own legend.

The pressure was making its rounds in the family – even Kimito was not entirely immune to it after all these years. Ayato would've thought he'd be numb to the extra workload by this stage in his career, knowing when to brace for impact or plan ahead. Instead, without fail, his jaw muscles would get tighter. His snarls would be louder and raspier. And his nervous tick – the throat rubbing, an odd little stressful neck massage? He indulged in it more often.

If there was a bright side, it was that the house was never tidier than it was this time of year. His mother scrubbed and dusted and mopped whenever Kimito was storming around during one of his tirades. Ayato knew it was reserved for then, because he'd come home from school a few times when his father was at the shop to find her reading a book or watching the news.

Whether it was to show support for her dear husband by being productive too, or simply an avoidance tactic, all he knew was that it certainly didn't work. It didn't keep Kimito from screaming at her. There was always a time and reason, like was she _trying_ to sabotage this family (she'd had the audacity to ask Ayato if he'd done his homework yet when there was clearly still work to be done in the workshop) or did she have any idea how high she was running the water bill with all those relaxing baths?

 _Everyone_ was fighting this month. It was giving him a headache.

In fact, the arguing between Hejjiguchi and Kurimu wasn't all that funny anymore. It was downright annoying, actually. The initial appeal that had tickled Ayato so much was Hejjiguchi slumping over his desk and for once not letting his mouth run laps faster than he did.

But when he walked in one morning only to brush past a pouting Kurimu, who muttered something about going to find Ami, he made sure to give her boyfriend a dour look on his way to his seat. Hejjiguchi saw fit to tiredly return the frown before turning to stare out the window.

Ayato sat down with a quiet scoff. Honestly! There was being hilariously pathetic and then there was being a surly brat.

At the same time, though, his curiosity was a great plaguing evil. He couldn't stop himself from shifting in his chair to scrutinize the poor fool. "What are the two of you even arguing about, anyway?"

Hejjiguchi's eyes drifted to him lazily. "I'd _really_ prefer if you kept to your own."

"Your hypocrisy is astounding," Ayato drawled. He gestured grandly to their desk aisle. "There's clearly no escape from all of you. So, humor me or keep quiet."

Hejjiguchi blinked at him slowly. God, Kimito would just hate him. Despite his afterschool activity, he was the epitome of laidback – which his father claimed was just a code word for lazy.

"Not that it's any of your business," he said, keeping his tone cool, "but Kurimu and I broke up."

Ayato took a moment to process this as Hejjiguchi put his earbuds in his ears. He stared at him, pivoted around more fully in his seat, stared at him harder if possible. Hejjiguchi pretended to be very interested in scrolling through his music library.

Then Ayato snarled, loudly, "You have got to be KIDDING me!"

He knew Hejjiguchi had heard him; there was rarely ever a time his music was on that Ayato couldn't hear it blasting into the guy's eardrums from two whole seats away. Unless Kurimu was there to scold him, but, well, she wasn't, and her ex-boyfriend would never be so courteous to him.

Broke up! He thought it was just some domestic squabbling! How long had they even been dating, a month?

"You two were disgustingly close only a week ago! You were _coloring_ together!" His nose wrinkled in absolute disgust. Those two! They'd shared snacks and sweet words and colored pencils. The height of romance, truly. "What the hell did you break up for?"

Hejjiguchi glared.

"Keep your voice down!" he said, taking out one earbud like a good pet. "Look, we never should've been dating in the first place. We were only together because you played a dumb trick on us."

Ayato faltered at this, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "How did you know about that?" he asked. Hejjiguchi wasn't smart enough to figure out something like that on his own.

"Yuri told me," he said matter-of-factly. "You guys set us up. You threw us at each other!"

Wait… Yuri told him? He frowned, worrying his lip. Why would she do that?

"Ami tried to do it to me first," Ayato countered. "You liked her more than I did, I wanted the three of you off my back, it made sense. Why are you complaining?"

Hejjiguchi slumped glumly against the back of his chair. "Because we were just pawns in a stupid game," he muttered.

"You got a girlfriend out of it," Ayato reminded him. Really, he should be thanking him.

That earned him a dour look. "I don't want to be tricked into a relationship," said Hejjiguchi, more angrily as he kicked the front leg of his desk. "It's not right. I don't want to be duped, guilted, blackmailed, begged, threatened… nothing. If something's meant to happen, it should come naturally. Or at least be my choice."

Ayato considered this for a second, then scoffed. "I think you're making too big a deal out of this."

Hejjiguchi looked up almost immediately and opened his mouth to utter a retort, but – thank God and the entire universe – more classmates filed into the room. Including Kurimu and Ami. Ayato turned back around, satisfied to have gotten the last word in.

But then Kurimu sat down behind him with her sad little sigh, and he sat up straighter as the aggravating weight of the matter stopped levitating and crashed to the bottom of his brain.

Broke up! He and Yuri concocted a well-thought-out romantic situation to bring them together and they broke up! She'd befriended Ami as a diversion so they could go on their silly little dates and they broke up! She got tangled up in Ami's beloved drama club out of dedication to their ruse and they _broke up!_ For God's sake!

Unbelievable.

And because she _told_ them, too. They were the whole reason she'd gotten into this mess! There wasn't even any point now, so why would she—

His gaze flicked sideways to Ami, who was happily texting under her desk. A recap of the last few days flashed to mind.

The couple had been fighting since Monday. Ami had welcomed Masuda to the drama club on Tuesday. Unless she'd lifted the superstition rule, that meant there was a tenth member as well.

Yuri had joined drama club anyway. That made one thing quite clear.

She didn't miss him at all.

* * *

Yuri parents came home Friday morning, and she realized she forgot to tell them she'd joined an after school club. So she kind of chirped it through their bedroom door before heading downstairs with her backpack. She'd heard some distressed sleepy sounds of protest, but she took solace as she trotted into town that she'd left the phone numbers of the school as well as Ami and Misako on the dry erase board in the kitchen.

They could always call _her_ cellphone – that's what they'd bought it for when she was fourteen. But this was, as always, a precaution in case her phone died as she was being held hostage by a gunman or something.

Whoa… She'd stopped in her tracks at that one. Too dark.

They wouldn't pull her out of it, right? She hoped not. Things were going along nicely in the drama club. They were a good group, endearing really. Kaori liked to argue with Horigoshi about manga and lean the weight of her arm on Sayuki's head while she talked. Sayuki liked to kick her in the shin and fangirl about the obscure Furukawa actor she admired so much. Going by the script, they were well cast for their parts. Kaori was playing a cool athletic boy with Sayuki as a lovable rich braggart. Originally, Sayuki was supposed to play Horigoshi's role (feisty brave friend that acted as a sort of mama bear) but she and Kaori really liked playing frenemies, so they swapped places and Jinko edited Horigoshi's character to be flexible with the gender.

Watanabe and Masuda got on pretty well too, partnering in lighting. He said he'd show Masuda the works if he showed him the pictures and, surprisingly a good sport, Masuda paid up. Watanabe and Ami had shrieked with laughter, which made Yuri sort of happy. Hejjiguchi's grouchy demeanor had been bumming Ami out during lunch and Yuri still felt guilty about that so it was nice to see her in a good mood.

(She would later learn from Ami that Masuda looked very fetching in a fruit hat.)

Thanks to Masuda, who was a man of his word and had brought in a couple boxes of things from home, the group was able to pick out costumes and get that out of the way by Thursday. But Jinko urged Masuda not to take the boxes home, and so the cast was able to goof around in trench coats and wizard beards for a bit while Yuri tested sound effects.

While messing around and having fun learning what was what, Yuri had pressed one button in passing. Just a casual graze as she was tapping away, her middle finger touched the button and then ceramics were breaking in her ears. She froze and jumped back with a loud gasp, like an absolute moron.

Most of the group stopped and looked at her, and simply laughed like good sports ("Wow, Yuri, drop something?!") before going back to what they were doing. But Masuda and Ami had, ugh, lingered on her with unabashed concern in their eyes. Ami had smiled all sympathetically at her. She knew what they were thinking, and they were both horrible for it.

But other than that, it had been a good day. A good week, really. Lunches with the group got easier when she learned to tune out Hejjiguchi's uncharacteristic cynicism. The trick was cheerfully complimenting Kurimu's daisy pattern illustrations and conspiring with Ami and Masuda to loudly change the subject to the school festival when necessary. Besides that, she'd re-read the script once or twice, or three times.

She had to hand it to Jinko – it was a gripping story for something based on a childhood memory. Some parts also gave her a faint sense of déjà vu, like she was reading an off-brand version of her old dreams. But maybe some things were just universal for children? Wanting to battle mysterious aquatic monsters, fearing shadows and the things they can't see…

Again, kids could be so messed up. She blamed nursery rhymes and already harsh realities.

After the initial re-read(s), she picked a few characters she liked and went over it again on Thursday night each time through a different role. Just for the hell of it. First as Sakurai (Horigoshi's role), then as Kamiya (Jinko's), then as Hanazawa.

So that was sort of why today in drama club after tongue twisters and warmups, she wandered over to the cast list by the door and eyed it for a minute. Eyed it as if she would a dessert menu. Unnecessary but an undeniable appeal.

"Not too late to be an understudy," Ami said lightly, coming up from behind with a knowing smile. "People get sick all the time, you know. We'd need you!"

Yuri laughed. Ami, she thought wryly, could read her like a tarot card. "I dunno. Who would run the thunder and the demon mist?"

"Misako could do it," said Ami. "Or Watanabe and Masuda! They're competent enough to run lights and sound at the same time."

"Unless Matsumoto gets sick too," Yuri noted. Masuda had already agreed to be understudy for one of Matsumoto's roles. His deep voice would serve well as the "mysterious disembodied voice" if need be. He'd already done a read-through and Matsumoto had looked vaguely jealous at Jinko's impressed shiver.

"Hmm." Ami smiled around at everything. Over by the window, Kaori said something to Sayuki that made her throw a clown nose at her forehead. The loud honk upon impact didn't seem to faze anyone. Again, it was a good crowd. "Any parts resonate with you?"

Yuri considered, toying with the corner of the cast list sheet. "Kamiya, kind of. And Sakurai. They're the nurturing hothead types, you know? I can pull that off."

Ami giggled.

"I'll bet," she agreed. She was quiet for a minute, regarding Yuri with this look like she wanted to say something important. Then she said, hot pink fingernails tapping her chin, "I think… I think you'd make a good Hanazawa."

What, the lead? Yuri gawped at her, then shook her head wildly.

"Oh, I don't think so," she said, regaining her composure with an easy grin. "I've seen movies. You get sick, I cover for you and do a fluke of a wonderful job, you seethe at being upstaged and we tragically hate each other forever."

Ami whipped a plastic pink and red magic wand out from the back of her skirt and bopped Yuri on the head with it.

"I wouldn't do that!" she said, stern although her bright smirk carried the joke. "The show must go on, right? If anyone could take my place, I'd want it to be you."

Yuri felt oddly touched, albeit baffled. Ami's was a level of unconditional support she didn't really know what to do with.

"Why do you think I'm a Hanazawa?" she asked doubtfully.

Truth be told, she hadn't gotten more than halfway through her attempt at reading for Hanazawa. At a distance, she was a great character. Distant, a little detached, but huggable. Sweet and inspiring as she blossomed. But actually being her... it was…

Well, it was a little too much.

Ami pursed her lips, kind of delicately tapping her fingertips together as she formed a thought.

"It's just that," she said, and seemed to be having difficulties with words.

Yuri's arms crossed in mock (maybe) indignation. "Is it the heartless part or the sad, lonely, and weak part?"

Masuda and Horigoshi looked over at her. Had she raised her voice?

Ami blushed. "It's the metamorphosis part. Coming back from pain and finding strength. In others, and in yourself."

"Coming back from pain?" Yuri repeated. Ami blushed deeper and threaded the magic wand through her fingers, looking very much ready to backtrack. Yuri decided she didn't want to know who or what Ami was talking about, so she did it first and added, still doubtfully, "Maybe. But I think I'd rather go with Kamiya. That way if Jinko gets sick, you and I can work together!"

Ami seemed to cheerfully accept this, and they both went to rejoin the group for more warm-ups (she envied Masuda's natural tongue-twister skills) and soundtrack discussion. By the end of the day they'd agreed on a music selection for half the scenes. All in all, very productive.

As she walked home from school, though, Ami's comments stayed with her.

What was she talking about, calling her a Hanazawa? Wasn't that her way of calling her sad and lonely? That, what, she'd lost her heart? She wasn't lonely! Was she trying to insinuate that… that she missed…

Whatever.

It was best not to think too deeply into it. Not take it too seriously. Yeah, she could probably be the Hanazawa understudy. But instead, more officially, she was going to do all the awesome tech tricks and _possibly_ be Kamiya. If her life was cliché enough for a fictional universe trope.

Considering the bizarre circumstances she occasionally found herself in, she liked those odds. They entertained her enough to carry her through the front door at a lively pace.

When she trotted into the kitchen, her parents were already there waiting for her. Mom was typing furiously on her laptop and Dad was staring blearily down at some papers strewn before him, careful not to spill any coffee. They glanced up when they heard her footsteps, both looking pretty tired. God, their sleep schedule was horrible. Worse than hers, a _teenager's_!

"Look who's home," Mom said, resuming tacking away at the keys. Funny of her to say that. "Aren't you going to tell us about drama club?"

Yuri breezed past whatever "breakfast" her parents had left on the stove and searched hopefully in the fridge for leftovers. Her parents _were_ really out of the loop, weren't they? She guessed she had been using her phone to call Ami more than them while they were away. Hadn't really thought about it, which was… well, not weird. She didn't tend to bother them on their trips unless it was an emergency. She let them be the ones to call her. And they'd only called maybe a couple of times to ask how things were going around the house. It was on them too.

So she filled them in – about Ami's request, about her after-school activities as of late, about finally officially becoming a member. All before the microwave beeped, which she prided herself on as she joined them at the table.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked carefully, once she'd finished and scoped out the expressions on their faces.

Her parents exchanged brief glances. Mom had always been very expressive with her eyebrows while Dad's were bushy and furrowed a lot, but she never really knew what the hell they were telepathically saying to each other.

"Not at all," Dad said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We're glad you're getting involved again. As long as we know where you are."

Yuri almost sighed with relief. She wasn't sure what exactly she'd been worried about. Hey, her parents could be cool!

Mom, nursing her coffee, made a small contemplative noise into the mug.

"I'm not all that surprised," she said, typing masterfully with one hand. "It's not like getting into the arts is unheard of in this family." Her gaze flicked fleetingly to the hallway, at the glass décor case.

Yuri had to think for a second before she realized who Mom was talking about. Of course – her uncle Shimon, Mom's younger brother. She hadn't heard from him in a while either, but he did send her a glass-blown purple star for her birthday. It looked really gorgeous in front of her nightlight. She was glad Uncle Shimon was doing what he loved, even though he came from a family of business and science and Mom worried about him sometimes. He was good at it.

"I bet I could've been in drama club," Dad mused. Mom almost swallowed her entire bottom lip in an effort not to smirk. But he heard her giggle anyway and sent her a feigned withering look, so she masterfully turned it into an agreeable hum.

Yuri felt even more hopeful at their good moods.

"So you think you'll have time to come see it?" she asked, sprinkling a bit more pepper into her bowl. Dad's pencil slowed. "The play, I mean. I'm an understudy so I probably won't be in it, but it's a pretty interesting story. Basically this girl loses her heart and makes some friends who help her grow one back…"

Her parents frowned thoughtfully, and so did she.

"It's better than I'm making it sound. I'd give you the script but I don't want to spoil you." Was she rambling? Her parents were still giving her uncertain looks. "But I'm in charge of making it look really cool, so there's that—"

"Yuri," Mom cut in severely, and looked guilty about it. "Isn't your school festival two weeks from tomorrow?"

"Yeah, first Saturday of November," Yuri reminded her. "Why?"

Mom gave Dad another telepathic glance, one Yuri could actually translate. _You tell her._ Dad's pronounced grimace – _Me?!_

Tell her what?

Dad sheepishly scratched at his hair. "We're going to be out of town again that weekend," he said.

Lowering her fork, Yuri stared at them both in disbelief. "You _just_ got back."

"I know," Dad said, having the decency to look upset. "We—"

"I thought you guys wanted to stick around for festival season," she pressed. The special time of year where they could throw money around and add to their ever-growing art collection. "Check out the ceramics. You always say it's his—"

"—best work, I know," said Mom. She clicked impatiently at her laptop and it made sad pinging noises at her in response. "We did want to. We want to come home as soon as we can, but apparently that means Sunday evening at the earliest."

Yuri frowned. "Oh, okay." She went back to picking at her food.

Figures. It had been stupid to ask, really. Of course they'd be busy on the day she actually had something to invite them to. Even if they weren't traveling, they probably would've had some reports or paperwork that they still hadn't finished. She'd thought their interest in taking a break for cultural festivals was a sure thing. But the year _she_ participated in something? It was just too convenient. It couldn't work like that in this family.

Never mind. She wasn't about to make a big deal out of it or anything. What could she do, stomp and scream and throw things like a spoiled only child who didn't get her way? She wasn't five years old. They might get the impression that she needed them or something, and cast aside all their big important meetings for one little play she wasn't even going to be in.

Why should they do that for her? For something so needless… If she was on the stage, maybe she'd have a stronger case. But she wasn't. She couldn't promise them that. She couldn't think of one good reason for them to stay.

Dad briefly glanced at her while thumbing through his stack of papers. "Don't they still record the plays, and make copies of them for the library?" he asked. "We could watch that when we get back. Right, Ehana?"

"Mhm." Mom drank some more coffee. She looked heartened at her screen for a moment and started typing again. "And hey – Naoi will be there, won't he?"

"I think he'll be helping his dad at the store," Dad reminded her.

"Might have a ceramics display at the festival instead. It's good publicity," Mom argued. Then she tossed Yuri a cheeky, knowing grin. "But he wouldn't have to stand guard all day – you _know_ he'll sneak off to see it. At least you'll have Naoi there, right?"

Yuri put down her fork.

"Maybe," she said. She grabbed her bag and stood up. "I'm going upstairs to do my homework."

They dismissed her with small sounds of acknowledgment and went back to work, a half-finished bowl left still steaming at the empty spot next to them. She heard pencil scratching and keyboard-tacking all the way up the stairs. Safe in her bedroom, she dropped her bag behind her desk chair and wandered numbly to her bed.

Her face crumpled the second it hit the pillow.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh God, there was no right place to cut this chapter. Pardon the length! Also, strictly Naoi POVs after this chapter.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Your secret's safe with me."_

" _So you are paying attention."_

" _I still think it's a great idea!"_

" _Will you please take it outside?!"_

" _I'm supposed to take this from_ you _?"_

" _Sort out your priorities."_

" _You should be very proud."_

"— _might as well not be there at all!"_

[Chapter 28]: **One Step Closer I.**


	28. One Step Closer I

**A/N: Quick FYI - I'll be uploading two chapters a week, this week and the next. So expect updates on Tuesdays and Saturdays! I'm really hoping to upload Heartbreak Cure on September 27th if possible. That's a Sunday, but I like the date because it's Naoi and Yuri's wedding anniversary.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 28]:_ _One Step Closer (Part I)_

* * *

The last week of October crept up on the Naoi household like a thief in the night and stole away with the last of Kimito's patience.

One of their electric kilns decided it was necessary to run longer than usual on Monday, which gave Kimito something new to scream about all morning. The problem was some elements that weren't heating correctly, or so Ayato figured from past experience. But his father yelled in frustration and kicked the damn thing – an irreverence that was only common around this time of year – so he wouldn't be surprised if something else was wrong now.

He'd been able to slip away while he was yelling and hitting various surfaces, and ended up not being too late for school. Which was good, because according to his mother all he missed was a full day of kiln repair. Could have been worse. His father might not have had spare elements and would've had to order new ones. The wait would've been lethal.

At least he wasn't going to school on an empty stomach every day. Aside from cleaning, his mother's big stress habit was cooking. As early as his rising time was, hers seemed to be earlier now, since he'd come downstairs more than once to find something hot on the table. Or even a loaf of banana bread she might very well have made in the middle of the night.

It was lemon bars on Tuesday. He slowed halfway through the forest as the path split into two, still licking white powder off his fingers. For a moment the world smelled like sweetness and citrus and fresh grass, and a faint muddy but not unpleasant scent he couldn't quite pinpoint until he realized the direction he'd gone.

Idiot, he chastised himself. The river must've beckoned to him while he was on autopilot. It couldn't be muscle memory – he hadn't played here in more than half a decade. Except for…

He licked his lips, lemon ghosting his taste buds as he considered the bridge not too much farther down the path. He could see the bushes where they'd hidden a month ago. Just one of Yuri's ridiculous schemes he'd been dragged into. But, why was he smiling?

Maybe it was the memory of Hejjiguchi falling into the water. He allowed himself a wry grin. Ah yes – nothing would ever be able to top that.

It had been an entertaining mission towards the end, he'd admit to that much. Back when none of them knew what they were getting into, and all that mattered was getting the fools to leave him alone. He'd even go so far to say that her plan had been crafty and insightful, and built on good intentions. Her unsuspecting victims did seem to like each other. It had worked for a while.

But she didn't listen to him; she hadn't left well enough alone. Which annoyed him further as he absently trailed across the walking bridge. Why should he find it within himself to leave things be when she couldn't do the same? Those three hadn't even been her friends!

They were now, he bitterly supposed. His mind might've been occupied recently but there was still no missing out on Ami's drama club chatter behind him. It had become significantly more cheery since Yuri and Masuda had joined last week. Part of it, he theorized, was to dominate the conversation and leave no room for Hejjiguchi's sullen comments. He would almost appreciate that if it wasn't nonstop.

Nonstop blabber about how much _fun_ she, Yuri, and Masuda were having together, or how exciting it was that the school festival was almost here, or how surprised _this one girl_ was going to be if _whatever-the-name-was_ actually got to come after all. Ayato was surprised Masuda wasn't losing his mind.

Or maybe he already had. Yesterday, Ami had been going on about her and some other members' attempts to get – _Gina? Jinko?_ – Jinko's old friend to attend the play. She was letting her dear friends in on it, but apparently it was some _big_ surprise, she'd told them earnestly, so _keep it hush-hush, okay?_ She shouldn't even be letting it get out of the range of the drama club.

"Your secret's safe with me," Masuda had said, so calmly and amiably, as if he didn't mind her presence or something. "And don't worry, I don't think Hejjiguchi's listening."

("He's not," Kurimu and Ami had chorused knowingly. Hejjiguchi's withering look was hard to miss in the window reflection.)

Ayato could not understand, for the life of him, what people saw in that girl. Somehow she just kept drawing seemingly right-minded people into her web.

Three-fourths of the way down the dirt path, two things happened to him at once. One, he remembered where this fork of the trail opened up – and two, he saw a flash of red amongst forest green.

His head jerked of its own accord, like a dog on an invisible leash. His eyes followed the glimmer, wondering, as it fazed in and out between the trees.

Was that…?

He slowed, then stopped, shaking his head. Why would it be? There was a neighborhood nearby but it wasn't Yuri's. The Nakamuras lived ten or so minutes away from here and her route to school certainly did not dip into the forest trail. Why would she bother to enter the woods? Unless he had some sort of misplaced delusion that she'd come to walk to school with him…

Even if that had been her, the Maeda coffee shop was a moment's walk from here into town. And Midori Hill – it was practically next door. She could very well be walking Kurimu to class, if not the whole lot of them.

Kurimu. Kind, docile, drew her pretty art and kept to herself. He bet Yuri liked that.

He bet it made her very happy.

The figure reappeared through the trees, near the forest's edge. Wandering along the Midori Hill neighborhood border. For a moment, he thought he could make something out: shoulder-length wine red hair.

And him, standing there, staring creepily from afar.

A dull ache prickled at his chest. Suddenly the lingering lemon in his system tasted like summer and warmth and everything that was steadily drifting further and further away from him.

He shook his head, cut across thickets and bending branches, and continued into town on his normal trail.

* * *

The rest of Tuesday passed as normal.

Behind him, Kurimu squeaked excitedly to Ami about the play. Even cared enough to whisper during class – how scandalous. She must've gotten caught once though, because their third period teacher had looked sternly in their direction and he heard a small despairing peep from her chair.

But oh, how could she _contain_ herself? The school festival was less than two weeks from now! And she was just so very happy to see her best friends have fun on stage after all their hard work.

"On stage?" Hejjiguchi had echoed, emerging briefly from his grouchy bubble. "I thought Yuri was just doing tech work."

"Hm," Kurimu said, miffed.

Ami made a similar indignant sound, but brightened after considering her friend for a moment. "So you _are_ paying attention."

Hejjiguchi looked surprised and a little guilty. "Well, I'm not tuning you out or anything," he said defensively.

"I should hope not," Ami said sternly, probably only half-joking. She was sitting, as she often did during break periods, with her chair dragged over to Kurimu's desk. So she was able to nibble at one of Kurimu's frosted sakura éclairs while giving Hejjiguchi a contemplative staredown.

Kurimu's voice rose an octave. "I meant I was looking forward to seeing her tech work on stage too. Just because something's backstage or unconventional doesn't mean it's not just as important. It's still real."

Ami and Hejjiguchi looked puzzled at her impassioned response. Even Ayato discreetly raised an eyebrow while he pretended to read his book (as if he was able to with all this background noise).

"And anyway," Kurimu continued, more demurely, "isn't Yuri going to be an understudy?"

"Oh yeah!" Ami said brightly. "We did have some unofficial auditions yesterday. I'm wishing Jinko good health of course, but if anything goes awry, maybe you'll get to see her onstage after all!"

Kurimu cheered at that, but Hejjiguchi frowned slightly.

"Don't mean to rain on your parade," he said, invoking another little hum from his ex-girlfriend, "I think that'd be really cool too, but shouldn't you be hoping Jinko doesn't get sick? You know, the whole childhood friend reunion thing? You're not dragging Tachihama there just to see Yuri."

Ami instantly looked glum.

"Tachibana," she corrected. "You're right. It would be amazing if Yuri and I could perform together, but I really want this big chance to make Jinko happy."

"Hmm," Hejjiguchi said, very helpfully, as he leaned on his elbow, "but it sounds like you gotta pick one or the other."

Ever the drama queen, Ami wilted in her seat with a sigh.

"No she doesn't." Kurimu reached over and patted Ami's arm. "Didn't Yuri try out for any other part?"

Ami perked up. "Yeah – Sakurai, actually!"

"Then there's still a chance that you, Jinko, and Yuri can all play together!" Kurimu said blithely. "I think that would be a lot more fun."

A relieved fondness broke over Ami's face in the form of a gradual smile.

"Kurimu-chan," she said, "you are the best type of optimist."

Her friend simply beamed back at her.

"This is, of course, still counting on one of your friends getting sick," said Hejjiguchi, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

Kurimu and Ami looked mutually unimpressed with him. Despite himself, Ayato had snorted.

And, well, those oh-so-entertaining and highly necessary conversations continued off and on throughout the day, always within earshot. Ami sometimes stopped her and Kurimu's ramblings to call Hejjiguchi a sourpuss and ask him about track and field, which Ayato cared about even less than costuming or fishing props.

It subsided after lunch. Hejjiguchi went back to brooding in the corner and eyeing the track field like a cat watching a birdhouse. Ami gushed to Kurimu about some girls who were painting the scenery and backdrops. Kurimu, who had come back from lunch a little deflated, yipped at her in mild offense at not being recruited. The teacher chided them, Kurimu squeaked sadly, and the babble dissolved into quiet note-passing.

That had been Tuesday. Just him trying to focus on the board but inevitably eavesdropping on a group of imbeciles – that was his fate, apparently.

He suspected Ami was doing it on purpose, trumpeting about drama club so he could hear how much fun Yuri was having without him. Bragging at him about her happiness and instant assimilation into the group. But the joke was on her. Despite her other faults, the girl had a natural penchant for talking over Hejjiguchi. He would gladly be subjected to her Yuri stories if it kept the other loudmouth idiot from being a constant wise-ass.

Because Wednesday was pretty much the same damn thing. Incessant babbling from the girls, Hejjiguchi making some sort of offhanded comment, Kurimu making upset noises at him, Ami squawking louder about something or other. Occasionally during break periods Masuda would join the conversation or be dragged over by an overeager Ami, and she'd fuss after one of Hejjiguchi's dry remarks and look to him for help. Masuda would humor her and wisely change the subject. He'd talk civilly to Hejjiguchi about music they both liked and say nice things to Kurimu about her art and baking. The latter seemed to undo any good he'd done with Hejjiguchi.

"What's in those pastries?" he'd asked when Kurimu started distributing snacks. Apparently Hejjiguchi didn't do vending machine runs anymore; Ayato grinned at the memory. "They look very good. If you want to contribute more to the drama club, I'm sure the club would appreciate your baking as a post-production treat."

Kurimu had preened very much at this, managing a bright smile. But before she could reply, Hejjiguchi cut in.

"Nah, they've got strawberry paste in them," he said, examining the pastry Kurimu had politely shared with him. "Misako and Horigoshi are _allergic_."

"They're not allergic," Ami fumed. "Horigoshi has a sensitivity! And Misako only hurled because _he_ did."

Hejjiguchi laughed. "Either way. They digest it, they pay for it! Ami found that out the hard way."

Ami blushed profusely. "To be fair, he didn't know either."

"Not until he tried the cake you brought in!" Hejjiguchi said, grinning.

Kurimu and Ami had squawked at him, looking a mixture of begrudgingly amused and very put-upon. "I still think it's a great idea, Masuda-kun," Kurimu said kindly, but in a firm way like she was obviously not talking to just him. "Maybe my mother and I can make a dessert that everyone will love."

Masuda looked pleased. "I cast my vote for something with apples and cinnamon."

Both girls sighed in agreement. Hejjiguchi slipped back into bored sulking.

But God forbid Ami leave the classroom and Masuda break free of the strange little quartet. That's exactly what happened the break period before lunch. Ami had fled in the middle of a stressful, escalating conversation in a flurry of pink hair, yelling that she had to go to the bathroom (which perturbed Ayato with the most frustrating case of déjà vu). The teacher had sighed as if in great pain and dismissed the class early. Nearly everyone piled out of the room – except for Kurimu, Hejjiguchi, Ayato… and two or three kids who stayed in their seats on the opposite side of the class and started listening to music. Kurimu and Hejjiguchi took that as their cue to argue freely.

Without their Ami filter, those two were like those horrendous soap operas Ayato's mother put on in the afternoons. They took to the corner of the room and initially kept a low whisper (courtesy of Kurimu) but then Hejjiguchi started getting cranky and discernible in bits and pieces.

"—all friendly with Masuda—"

"What? …just good friends… being _nice_ …. why do you care if…"

"I don't!"

"—isn't like you, I don't like what—"

"—not being _anything—"_

"…think I'm _childish!_ But you're the one…"

"—saving us both a lot of unnecessary trouble—"

"—just scared!"

"Of what?"

"—all this talk of real and make-believe because _you_ —"

Ayato couldn't take much more of this. He slammed his book and his hands on his desk, jumped to his feet, and spun around.

"Will you _please_ ," he snarled, putting emphasis on manners for dear Kurimu, "take it outside!"

Kurimu gawked at him, mortified. Beside her, Hejjiguchi crossed his arms defensively and shot him an unimpressed eyebrow raise. " _You_ take it outside!"

"Gladly," said Ayato, heading towards the door. "You two were _never_ this annoying when you were friends. I would've thought you two at least had the sense to never let it get like this."

Hejjiguchi stared at him, incredulous. "Of all people! Trying to play Love Doctor… I'm supposed to take this from _you?"_

Ayato glowered from the doorway. He might not have experience with deeply loving relationships but it didn't take a relationship counselor to know at least one of them was being a bonehead.

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, Hejjiguchi," he said, with a dismissive harrumph as he walked out into the hall. "Get over yourself."

A few indignant noises followed him out, but faded with distance, and in the more tolerable buzz of incoherent hallway chatter he allowed himself to think.

He spent most of the free period doing just that. Thinking, walking, wandering.

Why did people, young and old, spiral recklessly into an argument over the pettiest shit? There was a word for people like them. His mother used to say it when he and Hayato roughhoused. As boys, whenever pottery training let out, they had done it too much and too often. Over a fruit they'd raced up a tree for. Over a duel with branch swords. Over a race through the forest where Hayato had cheated – he would still say it to this day, Hayato had absolutely cheated.

Pugnacious, his mother had called them. Irascible. (Boys, Kimito had added gruffly, seeming almost proud when Hayato caught Ayato in a headlock.)

Ayato at least knew why he and his brother liked to fight. In a strange way, it might've been purely for attention. From each other, from their parents. A classic twin power struggle – wrestling each other since the womb. Kimito said it was natural, even encouraged it. His sons turning into "weak men" was a plague in his mind and a curse on his lips.

But see, those fights were _fun_. Outside of the workshop, Hayato was guileless but competitive and easily riled up. He'd known all the right buttons to push to get Ayato to drop his handheld game and chase him up a tree. Other people's fights never seemed quite as spirited.

Well, perhaps Kimito took some twisted satisfaction from lashing out. But Hejjiguchi and Kurimu didn't seem to have any fun at all. So why were they still subjecting themselves to all this?

More importantly, why was he still being forced to listen to it?

Honestly, all of this from a simple matchmaking prank? One trivial little detail after the two of them had been so tightly wound? It was ridiculous. They had actually enjoyed each other once, so why couldn't they sensibly talk it out and stop playing games?

Although, he supposed that was asking too much of Hejjiguchi.

Gliding briskly through waves of students, Ayato rounded a corner at the end of the hall. He should be getting back to class in a minute or two, but he was glad to be away from idiocy as he scanned the classroom numbers to figure out where he'd wandered off to.

Just to the left of the girls' restroom, he did spot a familiar face or two. Pink hair and a birdlike puckered pout. Ami Kawata – who was, oddly enough, in the middle of what seemed like a deep conversation with Chitose Hisakawa.

Ami didn't notice him at first. She looked rather subdued, arms wrapped around herself while she muttered things quietly aside to her schoolmate. For the most part Hisakawa seemed to be listening. Sympathetic, even. But there was a wry, tired edge to her half-smile, as if whatever Ami was saying wasn't exactly what she was keen on hearing right now. Ayato could very much relate to this.

Apparently Ami's exquisite hearing picked up on his little harrumph, because she stopped talking and frowned at him. Hisakawa noticed him then too. A glimmer of recognition took over her face. "Oh, it's you again."

"What do you want?" Ami said grumpily. Hisakawa lifted an eyebrow at the girl in mild interest.

"Passing period is almost over," he reminded her. He smiled innocently at her, then at Hisakawa. "Am I interrupting something?"

Ami's frown deepened with suspicion. She glanced at Hisakawa, which doused her sourness with a bit of guilt.

"Just girl talk," Hisakawa said impassively, oblivious. "He's right. I'm going to head back to class now. But please," she paused to give Ami a meaningful look, "sort out your priorities, Kawata. See you later."

With that, she broke into a swift trot and disappeared around a corner. Ayato absentmindedly watched her go, side-eyeing Ami. What was that about?

Then he turned to her and said, with great indignation, "Don't ever leave me alone to babysit again."

Ami grinned a little, albeit nervously. "I just needed a minute alone to—"

"—gab with your best girl friend Hisakawa behind Yuri's back?" he tsked. Hand to his heart, he did his best to out-dramatize her. "It's _disloyal!_ "

She looked upset again, brow furrowing very hard in defense.

"It was only girl talk!" she insisted. "We ran into each other in the girls' bathroom! It's different!"

"How is it different?" he asked, vaguely amused.

Ami huffed at him. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and grumbled something about hopeless, clueless boys.

"Aside from the obvious part," she sniffed. "Because I don't care about people's pasts, I care about their future. Because _I'm_ not about to make a big stupid deal out of something I know very little about and abandon her!"

His mouth fell open in bemused outrage.

"You-!" he sputtered, stupidly pointing a finger at her. " _She_ —!"

Before he could finish any sentences, she was gone. Stalking off to their classroom with a theatrical flounce and an upturned nose.

Him! Abandon her! What had Yuri been telling everyone? Who was the one who had gotten _bored_? Who had denounced their friendship and walked away?

Abandoned! What a load of bullshit!

This school was chock-full of absolute morons. He was glad that next Saturday, he would be too busy at work to celebrate it.

* * *

On Thursday Kimito went to Akuma High to make arrangements for a ceramics exhibit at the festival, and Ayato honestly should have seen it coming.

His mother was the only one at home when he got back from school. Since there was no work to be done until Kimito's return, she invited him to help her with some baking while she explained the situation to him. He reluctantly agreed. It sounded and smelled a lot better than doing homework in his room.

"I didn't even know we could do that," Ayato said after his mother explained where his absentee father had gone.

She lifted the lid of the pot on the stove, checking hopefully for a simmer.

"Neither did he, until he got the idea in his head." She stirred and prodded at the boiling beans. "At school festivals, students can present their art and hard work to the public. Your father believes that since you are a student, working hard and making art, you should be able to present what you've done at the festival."

"But it's not an extracurricular activity," he said, doubtful. "It's work and chores."

"It's you putting effort into your future. And it's part of Akuma culture," Mother said gently. "You should be very proud."

Ayato grunted.

"And your father says it's good exposure," she added as an afterthought. "Good for business."

Of course. That was what he figured.

The afternoon went on. His mother stirred and simmered and drained the beans until they were paste, and smiled her approval as he handled kneading the dough. He hadn't really done this in a few years – help her out in the kitchen and all – but he did have a knack for it, sort of. Some of it was just basic pottery and chemistry. Measuring, wedging, shaping with tools. But Kimito insisted it was women's work, so when he got home he barked at him to go to the workshop. And that was where they'd ended their Thursday.

Friday, he went to school with anpan and kind of savored it all the way to campus, purely from the satisfaction of having helped make it. Which was a mistake – because a couple of the tree danglers had stopped what they were doing to eye it hungrily. And a blessing, because while they weren't looking one of their friends threw a ball and bounced it off both their heads.

This school... Yuri would've loved that. A begrudging but true concept.

At some point during the day some school staff members came to him and told him essentially what he already heard from Kimito the night before. What he could bring, when he could come set up, what and how to advertise if he wanted to provide printed information sheets or bulletins…

"Will I need to be attending the display the whole time?" he'd asked, and dreaded the thought. His customer service persona at work was one thing, but here at school with his classmates? A godawful experience to be sure. It was embarrassing enough contemplating the "persuasion" Kimito had used to get his way.

"Oh, no. You have a number of options," one woman had said, straightening her chain-attached glasses. "Reserving a stand or a table is one thing. We can also have your pieces put up on ledges or window sills. If you'd like a more secure option, there's always the lockable display cases. The ones that hold trophies or other art pieces."

The older, stouter woman beside her had beamed at him. "No need for all work and no play, Naoi-san. We want to make sure you enjoy the festivities."

He considered this, and discussed it with them for a little longer. Kimito could make him do his dirty work at the school festival but he certainly couldn't chain him to a damn table stand. The women encouraged him to think it over and come back to them with any questions.

He went back to class in a decent mood. Then Ami opened her mouth and started squealing about how the play was only a week and a day away and how she hoped her dear friends would enjoy the performance while they sat in the front row and _behaved themselves, hem-hem!_ Kurimu had told Ami she would be sure to mind her manners and practice perfect theatre etiquette, and one of the girls prompted Hejjiguchi in a way that made him quite indignant. This eventually devolved into Ami making a subtle but very severe warning.

"—anyone who'd rather argue and be childish than graciously support their best friend's long-awaited, hard-earned performance _might as well not be there at all!"_

Hejjiguchi had been very much cowed into silence. In fact, after that, he and Kurimu might've just switched to ignoring each other. It might've gotten a little quieter back there, for the time being. Ayato didn't know.

What he did know was, he didn't like how vague and reaching that threat was. Nor did he like the slow realization that for once, courtesy of his father, he would be stuck exactly where Yuri needed him.

But she didn't.

* * *

 **A/N: There was so much I wanted to put in this chapter, but it felt like shoving certain scenes in the same chapter would be too fast-paced. So "One Step Closer" is a two-parter. Also, that thing about putting his pottery up on ledges? Inspired by a thing my church actually did with this one member's ceramics. I love looking at them every Sunday. Did not know until this year that a dude I went to Sunday school with made pottery! Still debating asking for writing tips.**

 **Until Saturday!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _So you're banishing me?"_

" _Big babies eat lunch in timeout together where they belong."_

" _Will you SHUT UP?!"_

" _I barely stood a chance!"_

" _You and Yuri haven't spoken to each other in weeks."_

" _She doesn't want me there."_

" _Think about it."_

" _8300, what do you say?"_

[Chapter 29]: **One Step Closer II.**


	29. One Step Closer II

**A/N: Hey! Just a reminder! This is today's (Saturday's) chapter, make sure you've read Tuesday's chapter (28) before you proceed. Or else you won't understand why Naoi does what he does at the end of this one.  
**

 **Posting this a little early because I have to go on an errand. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 29]: One Step Closer (Part II)_

* * *

The weekend dragged dreadfully, with Kimito assigning him long hours at the store and yelling threats at him for the slightest hint of backtalk in the studio ("Your grandfather would throttle you if you talked to him like that" was an old but popular one).

Then Monday came, and it brought November with it. The majority of Akuma's trees were not only ablaze with red foliage but also molting, making two of the tree-danglers visible from the branches as they stared down in judgment at their friends pelting handfuls of leaves at each other. Gaggles of schoolgirls happily formed almost impenetrable walls near the school doors as they talked about the school festival. Inside, students were already putting up signs and decorations on the walls.

The escalating hype from classmates also meant increased interest in the play. So this week, Ayato found his elbow being bumped on the regular by a number of students who milled around Ami's desk asking her how it was going. He really didn't need to know how many of them had crushes on some boy named Matsumoto. Nor did he care about their mild disappointment that he was mostly getting speaking roles.

Ami preened at the attention, hushing Kurimu and Hejjiguchi so she could bask and answer questions. She said she could maybe do some last-minute costume alterations with the help of her co-designer. Nearer to the front, Masuda chuckled nervously and muttered a bashful confirmation.

A couple of their classmates asked about Yuri, which he couldn't help overhearing.

"Shiruba told me that Horigoshi told him that Yuri Nakamura joined drama club a while ago," burbled Takamori, a lavender-haired girl who sat on the other side of the classroom. She looked very impressed for some reason. "Is she in the play too?"

"I heard she's got the second biggest part," said her friend, a short and hyper brunette named Marina. "I heard she wears wings and sings a solo. Tomoki says—"

"Whoa!" said Ami, laughing. " _Somebody_ wears wings in one scene. Yuri's doing tech and understudying for Jinko's and Horigoshi's parts."

"Both of them?" Marina said, suddenly thoughtful. "What if they both get sick?"

Ami looked badly upset, making an odd little squawking noise at the back of her throat as she wilted in her chair.

"If you looked closely, you could see when her soul departed her body," Hejjiguchi said with a laugh.

Kurimu squeaked out a laugh too, then clapped a hand over her mouth and cut it short with a shameful cough. "It's the last week before the performance," she told the girls importantly. "She's keeping away any and all negative energy."

"Huh!" Ami sniffed, as if having heard a bad joke. She shook a tiny magic 8-ball and pretended to be very interested in it.

She started making a lot more of those unimpressed sounds after that. Not towards her little visitors, but her two lackeys. She snapped at Hejjiguchi when he said anything crabby. On Tuesday she brought in a small pink spray bottle and used it on him like he was a cat. She brought in some sort of fairy wand prop and bopped Kurimu on the head with it. Both of them squealed like baby boars whenever they incurred her wrath. It was quite interesting, to say the least.

She had just about reached her limit, it seemed. He was almost impressed.

In fact, right around lunchtime she made this very clear. As Hejjiguchi was starting to get up and head toward the door with them, Ami poked her pink fairy wand into his chest and pushed him back towards his seat with it.

"Uh-uh-uh, mister," she said. "You're staying right here."

Hejjiguchi, who'd raised his hands into the air in surrender when the spray bottle came back out as well, crinkled his brow at her. "Whaddya mean?"

"I _mean,_ starting today lunch is a girls-only affair," Ami told him. She looked over her shoulder at Masuda as he was leaving, to see if he'd heard. Which was unnecessary, because he'd already told the girls yesterday that he would be eating lunch with his roommate Hachihama this week. Ami had pouted gracelessly about it so Ayato had called her out at the time _("Don't be so needy, Kawata, your friends can hang out with other people"_ ). But then she'd countered with _"You're right – and with my friends, they usually come back,"_ which had stung him into a resentful silence.

Now, Hejjiguchi looked just as affronted.

"So you're banishing me?" he said, crossing his arms. He eyed her warily as she set her weapons on her desk. "What for?"

"For the last couple of weeks, you haven't been acting like yourself at all." Ami frowned severely at him, arms akimbo. "You've been nothing but a grump and a jerk, especially to Kurimu!"

"I—"

Ami held up a finger to interrupt him. "Now I don't know what started this silly ongoing tiff between the two of you, but I'm pretty sure I know _who_ started it." She put a hand on Kurimu's shoulder. "Souma-kun, I care about you a lot. But Kurimu is my best friend. Until you stop being a pain in the butt, you're not welcome to sit with us!"

He gaped at her, pulling an unattractively aggrieved face.

"If I'm not welcome to sit with you, guess I'm not welcome to go to your big play either," he said, in a bit of a snit Ayato might add.

"Guess so," Ami said back just as crossly. Hejjiguchi went absolutely bug-eyed. "I warned you! Drop the attitude, Souma Hejjiguchi – you're acting like Garfield on a Monday."

Hejjiguchi gasped more indignantly, plopping down in his chair. Kurimu looked just as stunned as Ami linked arms with her and started leading her out the door.

Now, of course, Ayato had found this whole encounter wildly entertaining. But as the girls were going to leave, it occurred to him presently that they were in fact leaving Hejjiguchi in the room with _him._ He'd started having lunch in the classroom last Thursday, when the world began to get too cold for the club room's pleasant window breeze. He was already accustomed to having this one period in the classroom without them and he didn't want that taken away.

"I thought I told you not to leave me alone to babysit!" he said darkly.

Ami briefly glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Big babies eat lunch in timeout together where they belong," she said curtly. Then she closed the door behind her.

Hejjiguchi and Ayato exchanged similar glances of shock and dismay. Frowning, they turned their backs to each other and stared at opposite walls.

* * *

Ayato ate his lunch. He took out a book and tried to study.

Hejjiguchi stuffed his earbuds in his ears and listened to loud music, which was – good. Not the loud part, he was still waiting for the day the fool's eardrums became irreparable, but at least that might keep him silent and occupied. If it meant hearing muffled guitar wails instead of undignified grousing and griping, then by all means Ayato was all for it.

But after one or two songs, because this was a stupid thing to hope for, Hejjiguchi paused his music player and opened his mouth.

"This is kind of your fault, ya know," he said.

Ayato sighed, already bored. "You're still going on about that?"

"Well if you hadn't pulled your little matchmaker trick, none of this would've happened!" he said desolately. "I mean, Kurimu's mad at me and now _Ami_ 's mad at me because _Kurimu's_ mad at me…"

How tragic. Ayato rolled his eyes and tried to eat his food louder.

"—and I just, I'm not trying to be the bad guy or anything. I'm just being realistic! And Kurimu's so smart, she's usually so easy to talk to, but with this, she's being so _stubborn_. She doesn't get it, why doesn't she get it?"

Was that a rhetorical question? God, he hoped it was. Surely the idiot didn't expect quality relationship counseling from him. No, of course not, he was listening to this drivel for free.

The best way to describe the lunch period Ayato endured after that? Essentially: an analog clock ticking past the minutes, Ayato eating and studying while Hejjiguchi ranted and raved and shifted into various weird lazy positions behind him. Occasionally he got up to pace around the room, making grand swooping gestures as he lamented his ex-girlfriend's endearing fondness for fairytale romance and cute love tropes.

"—and how cute can something be if it's, what? Forced? Simulated? Artificial!" Hejjiguchi cried, waving his arms like an inflatable tube man. "Schemed and scripted! No good thing should start on a lie!"

 _You must really hate surprise parties,_ Ayato thought absently. He turned a page in his book.

"I just – that's all this was, wasn't it? A bunch of manipulation and lies," he said in a great depression, sitting on the edge of an empty desk. "Started on a lie. Relied on 'em. Having to sneak around all the time so Ami wouldn't find out, getting Yuri in on it as a diversion tactic. I mean, geez! I don't think relationships are supposed to take that much work…"

Ayato watched out of the corner of his eye as Hejjiguchi draped himself over the tops of two desks like a weary bag of mulch. This guy was so goddamn dramatic he could give Kawata a run for her money.

"—and, I mean, yeah, we were making it work! But then Yuri had to drop that bombshell on me, and tell me it was staged. So it shouldn't have even started in the _first_ place…"

"But you knew about that," Ayato said before he could stop himself. He remembered now, and actually felt rather indignant after hearing all this bullshit. "You knew it was a little staged. Yuri came to you and told you that—"

"That's different!" Hejjiguchi hollered guiltily. "I wasn't trying to trick Kurimu or anything. I was just helping because I thought Yuri wanted _you_. And – and I didn't like the idea of you being alone with Kurimu in the woods."

Ayato frowned, quietly resenting what was unspoken there. Never mind the fact that it was apparently just fine to help push him and Yuri together!

"But – aw man, that's the other thing." Hejjiguchi ran his hands through his hair, then raked them down his face with a frustrated groan. "What if I only thought I liked her just 'cause I was worried about her being with _you_? What if—"

And that was when Ayato tuned out for the remainder of the lunch period, ears ringing. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd bled, or if he'd possibly blacked out for six minutes. Because forget Kimito's pottery shop during festival season – this was a whole new level of hell.

So that had been Tuesday, with Ami and Kurimu and everyone finally coming back to the room and Hejjiguchi mercifully going into a mournful silence when he saw the girls. Ami rolled her eyes and muttered to Kurimu that he was being a baby. They chattered to Masuda about lighting and speakers until he had to go back to his seat. Notes were passed. Sad sighs were heard.

School went on.

Kimito had him come into work an hour after he got home. He did some ceramic painting in the back room before his shift, which wasn't so bad. Except he frowned suspiciously when Ayato opened a new can of green paint. And, well… he felt like breaking something after that.

He almost did, actually. Bumping into a shelf corner and knocking a plate off-balance when his thoughts were too much for him. Kimito's reflexes kicked in quick enough to catch it before it hit the floor, saving it with one hand and using the other to cuff him over the head. He screamed at him for a while after that. Ayato muttered apologies and kept working.

When Kimito sent him home, he found his mother baking again and decided to help her out on a whim. It wasn't a peace offering or anything. It just gave him something to do, and it felt kind of good to learn to do something without being chastised at every turn.

But then, ever-so-companionably, she asked him how Yuri was doing. So he went upstairs and finished his homework.

* * *

"—not like I'm not tired of all the fighting either! _I_ don't know _why_ I'm like this, I don't like that I'm like this—"

Ayato closed his eyes, leaning his head over the back of his chair and rubbing at his temples. Would this madness ever end?

It was Wednesday, and despite his prayers and some almost amicable interactions witnessed before class, girls' lunch once again had gone into effect. So now lucky Ayato was sitting through another repeat performance from Hejjiguchi.

The rambling was borderline manic. It had been going on for seven minutes already. Ayato had learned far more about Hejjiguchi's deep-seated relationship phobia than he cared to know. In that the percentage was greater than zero. If the idiot went on one more dramatic spiel about the entire relationship being fake, he was going to lose his _entire_ mind.

"—and am I really making a big deal over nothing?" _Yes,_ Ayato thought privately to himself. "I don't think so, but Kurimu keeps saying, _'oh, what should it matter?'_ Kurimu says—"

More infernal prattling. And then, then _pacing!_ Getting up from his desk every thirty seconds to practically sprint around the room, making Ayato dizzy with rapid-fire gestures and witless words. Something about Kurimu telling him that this one detail shouldn't ruin a good thing.

Was that Key coffee he was drinking? Good God!

"—but what am I supposed to believe? Don't think I can even trust my own feelings here!" Hejjiguchi said, dropping into not _his_ seat but _Kurimu's_ like a sad sack. "I mean, it was all… _fabricated._ All of it was fabricated!"

"For God's sake, will you SHUT UP?!" Ayato roared, slamming his hands on his desk and spinning around.

Hejjiguchi blinked at him, looking extremely cowed and then defensive. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ayato cut him off.

"It was all you, you complete and utter imbecile!" he said, gripping the back of his seat in irritation. "We could see you cared about each other – your jealousy was so _annoying._ All we did was set the mood!"

For a blissful moment, Hejjiguchi gaped at him soundlessly like a mindless catfish. Struggling through his brain cells for a rebuttal.

"Environment is everything," he said finally, but firmly. "That bridge could make anyone fall in love."

Ayato rolled his eyes. "It could not."

"Oh yes it could, that was not fair!" Hejjiguchi said. Crossing his arms, he fell back against his chair with a faraway look in his eyes as if remembering. "The forest sounds? The lighting? The smell of trees, the wind in her hair? I barely stood a chance!"

The wind in her hair? Did he _ever_ hear himself talk? Or was he seriously this oblivious? Ayato felt very tired.

"It could not," he repeated, shaking his head. "Not anyone."

"Oh come on." Hejjiguchi looked at him doubtfully, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "Imagine yourself there with, uh…" His eyes lit up like he had a name on the tip of his tongue.

Ayato really did not want to hear the name, so he interrupted with: "Imagine yourself there with Ami."

Hejjiguchi frowned, but closed his eyes and thought about it. Seconds later they popped open wide with fear as he visibly cringed. "Nyaaah!"

His reaction was so pronounced that, despite himself, Ayato snorted with laughter.

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

Although his brow furrowed, Hejjiguchi allowed a slight sheepish grin. "Alright. So maybe it wasn't just the place."

"Of course it wasn't," Ayato said agreeably, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. Was that all? How sad it took him this long to figure out something so simple. "You were disgustingly happy with her. She was clearly your best friend even before. If you would throw a tantrum about something this simple, you're either stupid or you've got some personal insecurities you need to deal with." He looked at him with a raised brow, considering. "Probably both."

Hejjiguchi threw him a weak glare. It fizzled and he stared pitifully at his shoes. "Yeah. Probably."

Ayato stared at him, unimpressed. He'd just doubly insulted the guy, and he'd agreed with him? Was that amusing or just pathetic? Where was the backbone, the pushback?

Yuri would've pushed back…

He considered Hejjiguchi for a moment, in all his rueful glory. He thought back to that day, lying side-by-side next to Yuri in the bushes while his classmates were left alone to flirt shamelessly with each other. How strange… How utterly foolish that something like that could plague him to the point of losing his confidence.

"If there's anything magic about that place," Ayato told him, scornful at first but then more musingly, "it's that the person you really care about is the one you can picture standing with you on that bridge."

Lifting his head, Hejjiguchi eyed him thoughtfully with an affected eyebrow raise. Then he got a faraway look to him again, all conflicted and wondering, which meant he was deep in thought so it was safe for Ayato to turn around undisturbed. And he did so.

Fifteen seconds later, Hejjiguchi broke the silence.

"Hey, Naoi?" he said, hesitant. "Thanks."

Ayato frowned severely at the blackboard. Gratitude from Hejjiguchi? Disgusting… but deserved.

"Don't get used to it," he told him.

* * *

Giving Hejjiguchi arguably friendly relationship advice made him feel gross all over, so he needed to wash his hands. Or at least escape the companionable silence that threatened to settle between them.

He told him as such (at least the hand-washing part), and Hejjiguchi just gave an amused snort and waved him from the classroom. So he went on his way, closing the door behind him, and as soon as he stepped foot into the hallway—

"Good talk?" Masuda said amiably, leaning against the wall.

Ayato jumped. He glared at Masuda in accusatory disbelief, holding a hand to his heart. How the hell did he do that?

"Aren't you supposed to be at lunch?" he asked dully, while Masuda smirked proudly around at everything. "How long were you out here eavesdropping?"

"Just a couple of minutes. Didn't want to interrupt; you two seemed to be having a moment."

Ayato snarled quietly. Masuda looked even more amused with himself.

"As for your other question, well, Hachihama got into an eating contest," he said, losing his smirk in favor of a more aggrieved grimace. "I'm just coming back from the infirmary. He wants something to read."

"The infirmary?" Ayato repeated, vaguely curious. "He threw up?"

Masuda closed his eyes as if in pain. "No," he said calmly. "He won and started bragging, so the loser punched him in the stomach. _Then_ he threw up."

Ayato snorted through a sympathetic cringe. This school… It almost made the one in his dreams look normal.

He cut his laughter short when he caught Masuda giving him a sort of contemplative staredown. The guy was alright, but his stares had a certain solemn severity to them sometimes. Not that he was scared or anything. It was just a bit unnerving.

"What?" he said, shifting a little.

Masuda continued to give him this narrow-eyed look. Ayato was beginning to wonder if he was being critiqued, as Kimito would a piece of art. A piece of art made by him, to be specific.

"I just think you should take your own advice," Masuda said after a moment.

 _What?!_ Ayato glared at him warily, halfheartedly. There was a dangerous chance he was about to wax philosophical at him again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Masuda blinked slowly at him, undeterred.

"You and Yuri haven't spoken to each other in weeks," he noted. Ayato averted his eyes, scanning for the best escape route. "I didn't get the whole story, but isn't the – Yuri said it was a privacy issue? Isn't the privacy issue just as simple and overblown as their problem? Yuri said—"

"Yuri said!" Ayato threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Yuri said! She tells you everything, doesn't she? I bet she even told you about those two."

Masuda cocked his head, but didn't try to deny it at all.

"Do you have a problem with her having other friends?" he asked, a curious lilt in his tone.

"No," Ayato said grumpily, and forced a chuckle. "I'm sure she's better off."

"Hm," was all he said.

Ayato felt rather agitated. Was this what a couple weeks of friendship with Ami and her lackeys could do to a sensible person? Could the annoying virus spread so quickly? He started to walk off. "If that's all you wanted, I'll be going."

"Then, do you—" Masuda rubbed his chin. "Why did it bother you to know she told me things? Does she—"

He stopped, scowling over his shoulder. "What is this, an interrogation?"

"Doesn't have to be," Masuda said vaguely.

Ayato glared at him, suspicious. That was exactly something an interrogator would say. And – what, now that he'd played couples counselor for five minutes, he was entitled to one free therapy session? Again, he began to walk away.

Masuda fell into step behind him. He wouldn't have known except for his shadow – the guy was creepily light-footed.

"Look, I told you I didn't get the whole story," he said. "I was interested in hearing your side of things."

Ayato sighed and stopped near the water fountain for a drink. He grimaced when lukewarm water trickled out as if through a small crack. Classic Akuma High.

"Shouldn't Yuri be telling you everything? You're one of her new best friends." Standing, he gave Masuda a considering once-over. "Unless she's already bored of you too."

"You think she's bored of you," Masuda said, looking and sounding very interested as if this was a fascinating development. Ayato half-expected him to whip out a yellow pad and pencil and start scribbling notes for a report.

Sighing, Ayato wiped his mouth with his hand. "I don't want to talk about it."

Masuda gave him a doubtful look. It was annoying, and all-knowing.

Damn it.

"She said it was a privacy issue, did she?" Ayato said skeptically, leaning against the wall next to the fountain with his arms crossed. "What, that I couldn't mind my own business? That I was nosy and entitled? Something was bothering her and she refused to tell me! She just doesn't tell me things!"

Masuda frowned. "She doesn't?" he asked, with a small eyebrow raise. "She never tells you _anything_?"

The technicality was a tedious one. Alright, yes she told him about losing family members, and about her parents always being busy. About movies she liked and things she was good at and, up until their fight, all her impassioned ventures in operations or recruiting for drama club. She'd been happy to tell him those things. But…

"Fine, she told me things," he caved, exasperated. "But she just… she got so secretive about some other things. It would make her so upset, even guilty. And she just didn't think I deserved to know! She said it had nothing to do with me, but sometimes I'm pretty damn sure it did." He thought some more, still fuming. "And Hisakawa too. She wouldn't tell me anything about her."

Masuda nodded, taking in all of this.

"I see," he said, mulling over a thought. "But then, isn't there something or someone you might want to leave in the past? Wouldn't you not want to talk about it either?"

Those words made Ayato hesitate. Well, yes… sort of. There was someone. But was it really the same? Hayato was his brother, his dead twin brother, and he talked about him just as much as Yuri talked about her siblings. Just as often as anyone would speak of their ghosts. Didn't he?

"Nothing I would get deeply offended about if she brought it up," he said, watching a few students look hopefully at the water fountain. They noticed him there and kept walking. "She could at least tell me. Maybe I'd understand." Even if it was about him, he'd understand.

Masuda frowned thoughtfully. "Everyone has a right to their privacy—"

"But she won't, because she can't be bothered," Ayato continued on, ignoring him. He glared down the hallway at nothing. "She has these – these operations. And I think I was one of them."

"Operations?"

"Missions," he clarified. "It's like… a game of strategized chaos she likes to play. Befriend some edgy friendless brat. Matchmake for sabotage. Befriend a girl for a diversion. Join the drama club. Recruit for the drama club. Put on a play. Sabotage the relationship she matched up herself, or whatever she's doing now." He shook his head. "It's so unstable."

"That doesn't seem too impractically arranged," Masuda said sensibly. "The drama club ones seem rather linear."

"Well," Ayato muttered. Sure, maybe once he heard it in chronological order… "Well, of course it is. It's her newest fixation after all! Nothing's more important than _drama club._ "

"Hm," said Masuda. "You don't approve?"

"Approve?" He didn't like the word; it made him sound too much like Kimito. "Yuri can do whatever she wants," he said stubbornly. "But I don't see why she's wasting all her time and energy and attention on it. Why she just plunged into it out of nowhere, at the last minute, when she didn't have to. It's so needless. So unstable. Why can't she put this much thought and effort into college or her future or something?"

Masuda gave him a careful side-look. "Did you… need her to be stable? For you?"

Ayato turned and narrowed his eyes at him, feeling very psychoanalyzed. "No," he said defensively.

What a ridiculous speculation! As a matter of fact, he'd liked her chaos. It was amusing, and had come in handy more than once. Her birthday, this summer, the… the matchmaking operation? That had been for him, he knew that. He just wished that she'd stopped there, that things hadn't spiraled. Then they might be outside right now in the mild weather, her balancing on a brick wall or treating a tree as her jungle gym. Or in the club room, her scaring the shit out of him by sitting on the edge of the window.

Masuda nodded with a brief sympathetic half-smile, like he didn't believe him.

"When people are in great pain, sometimes they turn inward for stability. Sometimes they need to rely on others," he said wisely, laying a hand lightly on his shoulder. "And that's fine, as long as the others invite it. But remember that the other person may be going through their own troubles."

Cowed, Ayato threw him a halfhearted withering scowl. Was that another jab about solipsism?

"If she would just tell me about them," he grumbled.

Masuda pushed himself off of the wall and maneuvered around him, which Ayato took hopefully to mean the end of this interrogation. But – no, he bent to get a drink from the water fountain. Probably parched from being so damn talkative today.

"I think," said Masuda, after he'd straightened back up, "for Yuri, drama club _is_ a bit of stability."

Ayato harrumphed quietly. What, surrounded by thespians?

"She's getting involved, joining a school activity, meeting new people. Doing something to make a difference at this school." He wondered if Masuda didn't sound just a little defensive. "Something that matters to people – and colleges, even. You know, theatre work does look good to universities. So it is in fact an investment in her future."

"I guess," Ayato said, feeling sort of foolish.

Annoyingly, he had a point. It was an extracurricular activity – and, well, now that he thought about it, it brought out and refined some of her skills. Tech, particularly sound, probably had a lot to do with timing, creativity, and a clever mind. If she were to perform in a play, this would hone in on her ability to speak persuasively and passionately on her feet. To act onstage was to lead fearlessly.

But then, that was probably why she was so much happier without him. If he wasn't careful, Masuda's own persuasive pull would make him forget why he was angry with her. He'd drift back towards caring, only to crash into her barrier again as she continued to keep him at arm's length.

He frowned, letting his arms drop to his sides as he eyed Masuda with overt skepticism. "Why do you care about all this, anyway?"

Masuda shrugged at him, vaguely abashed.

"Yuri is my friend," he said, and Ayato's jaw clicked in mild jealousy. "I hope it's not presumptuous to say that we are too."

Ayato, petulant, gave him a stony look. Masuda nicely ignored it.

"And, see, Ami and some other kids from drama club are getting Jinko's childhood friend to come see the play. I think you should go too, for reunion's sake." Masuda eyed him intensely, expectant. "It's obvious to me that she misses you. I know it would mean a lot to her if you came."

"I don't think so," he said doubtfully. This so-called detective had missed one very important clue. "You weren't there. She's done with me. I overstayed my welcome and pushed where I wasn't wanted, and she pushed me out and told me we weren't friends. She doesn't want me there. We're done."

"Hm," said Masuda, with a furrowed brow. A small but expressive detail – he openly disapproved but would say no more on the matter.

Sometimes it eluded him that Masuda was also in drama club, not just Yuri's or the troublesome trio's new friend. Yes, he heard him talking about the play and preparations with Ami, but he may have passively taken it as Masuda humoring her. Now it occurred to Ayato that the club might be an extracurricular Masuda had come to take seriously. And he possibly insulted him just now by belittling it.

Since an awkwardness had settled from his pathetic griping about Yuri, he took the opportunity to offer Masuda a weak smirk.

"So… drama club, huh?" he said eloquently. "Remind me what you do again?"

Masuda straightened up then, looking mildly prideful as anticipation gleamed in his eyes.

"I'm helping with lighting," he said, "and I was simply understudying for Matsumoto – he plays a few villainous entities – but recently they decided to split things up. Now I do the mysterious disembodied voice."

"Congratulations. It's a good part for you," Ayato said honestly. Masuda would do well as a voice actor for villains or antiheroes. Then he frowned as something occurred to him. "But why would they assign you lighting and understudy at the same time? If you go in, who does the lighting?"

Typical theatre, he thought to himself. Typical frazzled Ami, probably. Utter chaos.

But Masuda was unfazed.

"It's not a problem," he said importantly. "Above the stage, you've got this booth. It has the equipment for lighting, sounds, effects, general tech. So anyone who isn't doing work onstage might be up there. But it'll mainly be me and Watanabe at the lights and Yuri handling things like sound effects and music. Since we're above the stage and it's just a voice, I can use a microphone and speakers to play my character from upstairs."

Ayato simply nodded. He hadn't given much thought into the mechanics and functions of theatre. Not that it was going over his head, but he was slightly overwhelmed by how much he'd underestimated it.

"But with Yuri, she's also an understudy, it just depends," Masuda said musingly. "Hanazawa meets her friends one by one, so Yuri could do tech work for a while and then run down to play Sakurai when she shows up. Or she could just be Kamiya the whole time. Either way, Misako and I would take over for her in a heartbeat." He smiled faintly. "It's a good group. They're all there for each other."

He quietly wondered if that was another jab against him. "I see."

Masuda gave him another expectant look. "It's a good story too," he said, in a not-at-all subtle prodding tone. "You should go."

"You're right," said Ayato. His classmate blinked, nonplussed. "I really _should_ be going."

And he walked off, the grime of helping Hejjiguchi from earlier now covered with a thick blanket of unwanted guilt.

"Think about it," Masuda called after him.

With a dismissive wave, Ayato escaped around a corner and kept walking. He had too many minutes left of lunch for him to be comfortable returning to the classroom, but also too many minutes left of lunch to _think about it._

And then, as fate would have it, he almost immediately passed Hisakawa in the hall in a rush to get somewhere. She'd slowed slightly and given him this thoughtful look that was somewhat like any of the other suspicious hallway stares, but to a more unsettling degree. Not unfriendly, but speculative.

Just enough to remind him of what he was so frustrated about.

* * *

He did think about it, though.

He thought about it all through the rest of Wednesday, while Hejjiguchi sat – _quietly!_ – at his desk and did his own ruminating.

He thought about it at home before and after work. Kimito had him doing extra hours to make up for the time he wouldn't be at the shop this weekend, so he had to "bring his mind home from school" during that time or risk the ire of a growling boss. But beforehand, he stayed in the kitchen while his mother not-so-subtly spoke of a friend she had before she married Kimito. One who firmly disliked the man and got into an argument with her about it. ("We lost touch when you were a baby," she said sadly. "Your father didn't like me talking to her anyway, said she riled me up. But I miss her every day. We always wanted our kids to grow up together.") Ayato had been surprised – he'd never really thought about his mother having friends.

He thought about it into Thursday, continuing the conversation with the school staff about his festival arrangements. They were admirably helpful in working together with him. He wondered if it was their job or if Kimito had scared someone during his visit a week ago.

And he was so lost in his own mind at the end of the day, as he began his trek across the campus, that he barely heard his name being called.

Well, at first it was something along the lines of a general, awkward "hey you!" But then it was an, "Um, Naoi! Naoi!"

He turned around, and there stood most of the tree-danglers, hanging out under their favorite spot. But Shiruba, the one with silver hair that always looked very affected by static, had begun to approach him a step or two.

Behind him, Fujimoto and Takada were grinning around at everything. Nezumi looked the most tickled, as if watching a dare play out.

Ayato squinted at them suspiciously, not quite on high alert but getting there.

"Hey, so, listen," Shiruba said awkwardly. "Your mom – Ayame Naoi? She's a really good cook, right? She's the one who makes stuff like lemon bars and melonpan every year at bake-offs?"

His mouth fell open in moderate surprise. It wasn't every day someone knew him by his mother. But then, that _was_ one of the few things she got involved with or had time for out of the house besides groceries.

"Yeah," he said, once he'd regained his composure. "Why?"

Fujimoto positively beamed into his fist. "He wants to get in good with his lady love."

Shiruba rolled his eyes. "Your idea," he muttered under his breath.

"No it wasn't!" Nezumi said, smiling. It wasn't quite clear to Ayato who amongst them was lying.

While the others jeered and watched him expectantly, Shiruba sighed and slicked his hair back against his scalp. Amusingly, it sprung right back up.

"Listen," he said. "I'll give you 5500 yen if you bring in some kind of baked good and let me take credit for it."

"Take credit?" Ayato repeated, crinkling his forehead.

Shiruba withered a little. "Nezumi thinks—"

All the guys except Hirohashi squawked and hollered at him in indignation, so he stopped and looked very weary as he corrected himself.

" _I_ was just thinking it'd be cool to give the drama club—" he paused briefly when Takada made kissing noises, "—something really good to celebrate their performance."

"Kurimu's already committed to making something for the after-party," Ayato told him, wildly disgusted at the association of kissing sounds and presumably Ami. "Her mom always beats mine." As to be expected of the local baker.

Shiruba didn't look all that surprised.

"Eh, I figured," he said with a moderate shrug of his shoulders. "Then I'll be the opening act, give 'em a treat for before the play. Mine will just say 'good luck' while Kurimu's says 'good job.'"

"Huh," Ayato said, still wary. 5500 yen or no, it was a shady deal.

"8300?" Shiruba prompted.

Still, Ayato grimaced. "Are you also asking me to deliver it to Ami for you?"

"No way," said Shiruba, shaking his head vehemently. "Don't worry about that. I know she'd never accept anything from you, plus she'd never believe it was from me. I know a guy in the drama club. Horigoshi? You get it to me, I'll get it to him."

He looked at Ayato hopefully.

"8300. What do you say?"

Horigoshi. The name rang a bell – Ami had mentioned him a few times this week. Wasn't he the… Ayato blinked twice, getting an idea.

"Fine," he said, rubbing his chin. "When do you want it?"

The other guys chattered excitedly behind Shiruba at the tree. Hirohashi sighed and leaned against the trunk, looking as if his friend was selling his soul but he was used to it by now and hadn't the energy to interfere.

"Tomorrow, if possible," Shiruba said exuberantly, shaking his hand. "How early can you be at the school on Saturday?"

"Tomorrow's fine," Ayato said. "Have the 8300 yen ready."

* * *

His mother came downstairs from a nap and was astonished to find him baking in the kitchen of his own accord.

The counters were messy – spills of flour and beaten eggs alike, cracked shells, a whisk drip-drying precariously on a paper towel – but she did not chastise him. She looked heartened by the bowls of marshmallow filling and chocolate dip. Standing by the oven, she sniffed the air hopefully.

It was uncanny – she hadn't even looked at the timer. It went off seconds later. Did the woman have a sixth sense or something?

When he took the first batch out, his mother gasped at their beauty.

"May I try one?" she asked, making a space for him to set the tray down safely. "Or… are they for school?"

"I've made plenty," he told her. "Wait for them to cool."

She did. When they were only pleasantly warm, she picked one up and took a bite.

Her eyes lit up. "A strawberry surprise!"

Ayato grinned into his own small cake, admiring the layer of subtle pink cream amongst the marshmallow and breading. Just one bite had filled him with such warm chocolatey malevolence.

"Yeah," he said.

He waited patiently for Saturday.

* * *

 **A/N: You know he would. YOU _KNOW_ HE WOULD! Ahaha, I can't wait for Tuesday.**

 **Anyways, the Garfield joke? I didn't want to spoil at the top, but disclaimer! It's from A Very Potter Musical.**

 **See you next week for the Akuma High school festival!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I should have known it was you."_

" _If I didn't do things I was afraid of, I wouldn't have any fun!"_

" _Consider it a peace offering."_

" _Do your best."_

" _So the rumors are true."_

" _Just leave me the hell alone!"_

" _You don't even care how I feel, do you?"_

" _Yuri doesn't owe you anything!"_

[Chapter 30]: **Watching You Stand Alone.**


	30. Watching You Stand Alone

**A/N: Well here it is, the festival chapter! Although there's one more chapter of this particular arc (which I love and find fairly conclusive), this one's the main event for sure. Today is a good day for drama.**

 **Cha0T1cPeace: Thanks so much for the review! I was surprised (but pleasantly so!) to hear that you like this story better than Heartbreak Cure. I've always sort of assumed TPS was my coddled underdog while everyone waits patiently for HC. Means a lot to me that you've noticed my effort into fleshing out Naoi and Yuri and their backgrounds. Also, glad you caught onto Naoi's little trick. You're on the right track!**

 **Alright, I'm excited for this chapter so let's get this into gear. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 30]: Watching You Stand Alone_

* * *

When it came time for the festival, Ayato set up his display table and tended it like a good representative.

He wasn't allowed to sell at it, of course. As _persuasive_ as Kimito could be, it was agreed that such a thing wouldn't be entirely ethical. However, his information sheets describing his pieces mentioned the store in the bolded bottom header.

His was a simple table draped in white. There were two other tables like it in this art room, but they were covered in woodworking sculptures and paintings. And they were unattended. The students that owned them had abandoned their posts, probably to get portraits and caricatures done in the room next to them. Apparently artists wanted to be painted too sometimes.

Ayato's paranoia provided a strong enough adhesive to keep him in his chair for a good half-hour, with only a few visiting students and his customer service persona for company. And he wasn't good company. Frankly, he creeped him out quite a bit.

After the pervasive belief that Kimito would sneak in and catch him away from his post finally cleared, he went on a semi-thorough investigation of the school grounds. He'd never really gone to a bunkasai before so it was fairly interesting to see what the school got up to in its spirited days. There was a green tea ceremony in one class and a haunted house in another. He enjoyed himself in the first class and almost survived the second, until a bloodcurdling scream made him almost drop dead on the spot.

"Kurimu," he said, still having palpitations. "I should have known it was you."

Though her face had gone bright red, Kurimu beamed apologetically. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I'm a bit skittish."

"Yet you go into a haunted house."

"Well if I didn't do things I was afraid of, I wouldn't have any fun," Kurimu said with a shrug, making Ayato lift an eyebrow. It was that simple for her? She smiled around at the decorations, including the severed arm on the counter, then turned to him with shining eyes. "So – you're here after all? I didn't think – well, never mind. Are you—"

A "headless" ghoul crossed their path. Kurimu shrieked at the top of her lungs. Grimacing, Ayato rubbed his ear with one hand and used the other to guide her out of the way. This was, he mused silently, the absolute worst place to run into her. She sounded like a tea kettle spitting helium.

Grateful, Kurimu stayed by his side. They stepped around red puddles and over suspiciously-shaped trash bags.

"Do you—" She paused, looking suspiciously at some dangling spider webs. "Are you going to see the play this afternoon?"

Ayato frowned. "I don't know," he said, and tugged her aside before some spindly fingers could paw at her skirt. "I might go back to my table. Ki—my father has me doing a ceramics display in one of the art rooms downstairs."

Kurimu frowned too, looking up at him. "Are you selling them?"

"No, not here."

"Are you teaching a pottery class?"

"No."

She looked severely unsatisfied with this. "Then why—"

A spooky laugh interrupted her, emanating through the haunted house and filling her with terror. Luckily all she did was squeak and get them to move faster.

He was pretty sure they were almost to the end already, which was good, because things were getting too inquisitive for his liking. He wouldn't have minded her company otherwise, it was just… he had to remember who she'd been spending lunch with for the past few weeks.

Sure enough, when there was a lull between the yells of other students, Kurimu tilted her head at him and tented her fingers.

"I just think," she said slowly, "it would make Yuri really happy if you—"

A figure shrouded in black crawling on all fours started charging at them horrifically fast. Kurimu saw it and started screaming. Lucky for Ayato, he'd screamed too loud to even hear hers. They dodged it and careened through the exit to safety.

Once they were out in the hallway, Kurimu gasp-laughed giddily at him, pointing.

"You screamed at that last one!" she said with happiness. "You were scared!"

"I was not!" Ayato said indignantly.

But Kurimu continued to look joyful, and he relaxed. Maybe the haunted house wasn't such a bad place to see her. It had cut her off at every question and terrified her into amnesia. Could've been worse.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" she asked. "That always calms me down. A lot of people have come down this hall with ice cream so maybe they're handing it out somewhere close by. I think—"

She was talking at him but presently he wondered if she had ulterior motives. Her other friends weren't with her – yet. The drama club was likely doing some last-minute rehearsing or run-throughs. Maybe she was trying to buy time with him until they showed up.

"Already got ya covered," said a voice from behind – and a cup of ice cream landed neatly in her open palm. Kurimu whirled around in surprise to see Hejjiguchi looking bashful with a matching pink spoon.

"Souma-kun," Kurimu said softly, confused but managing a gentle smile.

"Consider it a peace offering." He handed her the spoon with a wink and a dumb grin. "Wanna go check out some of the game booths until the drama club meeting lets out? There's this one art game I thought you'd like. You get to throw darts at paint balloons."

As if he'd said the magic word, she became alight with happiness and started bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"That's so messy!" she said, giving him a knowing look. "But it sounds like fun."

They parted ways, with Kurimu hoping aloud that they run into him again soon if they didn't see him at the play. Hejjiguchi made a teasing remark about Ayato trying to move in on her again, which he didn't care for. Then he winked and gave him a thumbs up before disappearing with Kurimu down a different hallway.

Ayato shook his head at them. He went outside and got some yakisoba at a food stall.

* * *

More of the day passed. He visited the game booths and did exceedingly well on the accuracy one where he used a gun to fire foam darts at things. A little too well, actually. A few students eyed him nervously as he claimed his rightful rewards.

No, he'd never used a gun before. So what if he handled it like a natural? Fault him for it!

There was also a student doing calligraphy, so he got her to write his name. _直井文人_ _._ He admired it thoughtfully while he was back at his post, gliding his finger just above the lines. On the chair next to him, he kept his open backpack, and occasionally reached into his bento box for a snack.

He hadn't gotten ice cream like Kurimu suggested. He'd already brought something sweet from home. There were too many of those little cakes left over, and they were too damn delicious not to bring in. Still, he took careful measures to not get crumbs on the paper.

Those who bothered to peek in through the open door might wonder why he was sitting in there alone instead of rejoining the festivities. But what they would call lonely, he would call a Saturday away from Kimito.

 _Still_... He thumbed distractedly through his prize, the first volume of a manga about a mortal who became a god. Time was passing by, but how much? He had been reading for a while. The play might be not too far off. It discomfited him to think of missing it purely by accident. He wanted to have the choice.

Sounded like there was still a steady sea of people in the hall. Without looking up, he could hear girls giggling and exclaiming and fussing about something in the room next to his. Probably getting caricatures. There was supposed to be a choir performance before the play, so hallway traffic would probably thin out by then.

He finished the page he was on, then decided to check the time on the analog clock hanging above the doorway.

But his gaze never traveled that far north; it stopped at the familiar face peering into the room.

Yuri startled when he noticed her standing there, momentarily wide-eyed as if she had never meant to get caught. She stepped a foot to her left so that more of her was visible in the doorway.

"Hi," she said, a bit unsurely.

He stared at her, maybe too long. "Hi." The manga page fell from his pinched fingers. He didn't look to see if it landed on the right one.

She threw a brief glance around the room, inspecting its contents. It suddenly felt smaller to him – like he was sitting in a nook rather than a classroom. The vases and cups and figurines seemed more in the way.

"So, you're…" she paused, making a vague gesture at everything, "…here."

"Confined to a desk," he sort of lied. "But it could be worse." Yuri offered him a faint grin, understanding completely. "What are you doing here?"

A stupid question, now that he heard it come out of his mouth. But again, she knew what he meant.

"Kurimu, Ami, and I were just getting our caricatures done next door. We're kind of trying to relieve stress," she said, and looked nervous. "You know, before the performance."

He discreetly pushed at his backpack under the table so it wasn't gaping open. "Everything running smoothly?"

A wry sort of smile tugging at her lips, she leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms.

"Not for Horigoshi," she said with a rueful laugh. "You know Shiruba? That one tree guy who may or may not like Ami? He just... he made these chocolatey cakey things for the drama club to snack on before the play as a good luck gift. And they were _really_ good. But apparently Horigoshi thought so too, because he got into them first. And Misako had to tell him they had strawberry in them. But he was already on his third."

Ayato simply twisted his lips at her, innocently raising his eyebrows. It was taking a diligent effort not to smile at the moment.

"He's got this strawberry sensitivity, so…" Yuri shrugged, but her lips twisted a little too. Was that a glimmer of sadism in her eyes?

"Does he…?" he said, with a mild acknowledging head tilt. Still trying to be as stone-faced as possible.

"Yeah, so later he started hurling all over the place. It was so gross," she said, almost cheerfully. "And that's not the only end it'll be coming out of, apparently. So now he's clutching his stomach and stuff and won't be able to perform. So now I'm actually going on because I'm the understudy." And she just kind of gave him this long stare, as if searching his face for a clue, which made him shift in his seat. Did she know something?

He didn't know what to say. It had been three-and-a-half weeks. That long since she said they weren't friends. Since she made new ones.

What was safe?

"Do you have your lines down?" he asked, and felt some remorse for not thinking of that before. "Think you're ready?"

Luckily, Yuri nodded without any hesitation.

"Yeah," she said. "The character pretty much comes naturally to me. Though Ami says I'd be a good Hanazawa." His face must've looked blank, because she frowned and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well. You don't know the characters. You'd probably get it if you… never mind."

He looked at her, waiting. Not quite sure what for.

Yuri smiled awkwardly, standing up straighter and letting her hand slide off the doorway's wooden frame.

"Well, I've gotta go," she said. "Masuda, Ami, and I want to visit a few more game booths before the drama club meets up again. Only got half an hour until the play." She gave him that look again, speculative. He stared back at her. She turned to leave. "So… have fun."

He did a doubtful once-over of his surroundings. When he looked at the doorway again, she had gone.

"Yuri," he called.

A few seconds passed. Then there were footsteps, and her face reappeared. "Yeah?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded at her. "Do your best."

Her features softened. She sent him a tiny flicker of a half-smile, which made him sort of sad. "Thanks."

And she was gone again.

He listened to her footsteps fade off, then his gaze flicked to the clock. Just as she'd told him – half an hour until the play. He would be here. She would be off braving the haunted house with Ami and Masuda and then meeting up with the rest of her theatre friends to prepare backstage.

Somewhere, poor pitiful Horigoshi would be curled up in the fetal position spooning a waste bin.

Reaching into his backpack, he procured one of the cakes from the bento box and regarded it with interest. He grinned to himself and took a well-deserved bite, savoring the strawberry flavor.

And suddenly another rush of steps approached the classroom. He flung the cake over his shoulder in a bewildered panic just as Yuri burst in again.

"Naoi, I—"

She stopped in her tracks, staring at him for a moment. He quickly regained his composure and matched her stare impassively, waiting. Finally, she blinked a couple of times and shook her head.

"Never mind," she said, quietly embarrassed. "It's nothing." She left and didn't come back.

Ayato frowned mournfully at the smushed cake on the floor behind him.

* * *

It took twenty minutes for him to pluck up the courage to get out of the art room.

In that time, the auditorium had filled up very generously. The lights were dimmed but the curtain was down, probably a preparation break between the choir's performance and the play. When he opened the door, the auditorium flooded with light, but he didn't get too many stares because a few other latecomers were filing into the room along with him.

Discreetly, he meandered the aisles looking for empty seats. He spotted the tree-danglers near the back, Shiruba looking very cowed while Takamori from Ayato's class sympathetically patted his hand. Nezumi caught him looking and flashed him a positively gleeful earsplitting grin.

Hejjiguchi and Kurimu sat together near the front. Not front row seats, but still third. He recognized the duo by Kurimu's huge mane of hair – she and Hejjiguchi were sitting close enough that some of it draped over his shoulder. Obviously those two had made up. But that didn't mean he was keen on taking the empty seat behind them. He backtracked to the fifth row where there was a single seat he hadn't noticed to the middle-left.

Edging past students on his way to the end, he accidentally stepped on a girl's toes. He muttered an apology and glanced over at her.

"It's alright," she said airily. She had long silvery-white hair and a perpetually distracted expression, and wasn't wearing the Akuma student uniform. He didn't think she went to this school, but her voice sounded kind of familiar. Didn't he know her from somewhere?

He had wasted enough time wondering, so he snapped himself out of his thoughts and went to claim his seat.

The curtain went up. Ami was tucked into an infirmary bed, looking small under the sheets. From the third row, Hejjiguchi gave a supportive high-pitched whistle. A heart monitor beeped steadily in the background, a big red heart glowing on the wall with an EKG layered over it, until both faded out. A nice touch.

Was that Yuri's doing? He was already impressed.

Admittedly, the play held his attention from the start. It was hard to imagine Ami as someone meek, frail, and quiet, but she played the part well. Her character Hanazawa had lost her entire heart due to illness (he was willing to suspend belief) and lived a weak and lonely life because of it. But then she made a new friend who was curious about her and wanted to give her strength.

Kamiya began helping Hanazawa live life, introducing her to fun things and going on adventures with her. On their adventures, Hanazawa discovered more friends one by one. Each time she made a new friend and did something meaningful with them, a glowing heart would appear again with an EKG line and a pretty sound meant to symbolize a beat. It was charming to say the least.

He was intrigued by the short black-haired girl who played Ogata and masterfully teased the sporty Kimura. The great hungry demon was impressive and almost literally straight out of one of his nightmares. And he was amazed by how creepy Masuda's voice sounded coming from above, while Ami argued fiercely with him for the souls of her friends.

But Yuri...

When a number of people gasped and cheered for her the moment she first came onstage, they had no idea what she had in store for them. Her voice carried through the auditorium, strong and sure with a cheerful bite. He had once heard Ami describe the character Sakurai as "the mom friend." Watching now, he could sort of see it (hovering around her friends protectively, chastising them one moment but pushing them behind her in the face of danger the next), but part of him wondered if it wasn't her sisterly side emerging from the darkness.

She only seemed to flub three lines – pretty damn good for an emergency understudy – but easily bounced back. Her fellow cast mates would grin at her, likely breaking character, and play it off so seamlessly he couldn't tell if the reactions were scripted.

She looked happy up there, with them.

At the end, Hanazawa got her friends back from the bodiless omniscient figure with their hearts and souls intact. It was revealed her heart was complete, and she finally got to rejoin school and be with her new friends like she truly wanted. After the school day, and saying goodbye to her friends, she stood alone downstage. Ami held a hand to her heart and whispered softly, "Let's play again someday." The glowing heart and EKG appeared on the wall for a final steady beat.

When the curtain closed, the audience burst into thunderous applause.

Ayato stood up with everyone and joined in the standing ovation when the cast reemerged to bow. Yuri beamed out at the audience, literally glowing under the spotlights. As she and her castmates headed offstage, the loudspeaker announced another performance he wasn't going to wait around to watch. He got up from his seat and navigated his way into the aisle.

Imagine… if he had actually missed out on that play.

The aquatic monster costume was a little sparkly and ridiculous as it tried to get the friends into its mouth, but still. On a school budget… And Yuri had truly done well.

He could at least congratulate her. She did deserve that much.

His display table could wait for now.

* * *

Locating her was not an easy task at first. He eventually learned from another student that the drama club members had planned to convene in the hallway outside their club room, where they would soon be holding their after-party.

Which, yes, made some sense. But he'd never visited the drama club before. He got directions from yet another student and headed in the way he was pointed.

By the time he got there, a sizeable crowd had milled around a few of the members still in the hall. Ami, Yuri, and the girl who played Ogata were in the middle of a circle of fangirling classmates. From the looks of it, that included Kurimu, Hejjiguchi, Marina, and Hirohashi.

"—so amazing!"

"Those wings! Kawata, you have to let me borrow those wings!"

"I cried so hard at the end!"

"Sakurai was my _favorite_ character!"

"Where have you been hiding?"

Yuri looked a little overwhelmed, in a good way, at the shower of praise heaped upon her. Her eyes were bright as she talked animatedly with Hejjiguchi and laughingly signed Kurimu's sketchbook.

Meanwhile, Ami unlatched her arm from Yuri's to check her phone.

"I got a text from Jinko," she announced, and the Ogata girl – _Sayuki_ , he deduced from the chatter – peeked over her shoulder expectantly. "Said she got snagged by Tachibana on the way here because she has to leave soon. So right now she's trying to negotiate with her to stay for part of the after-party."

Yuri hummed thoughtfully. "Hope it works. I really wanted to meet her."

"Me too, with an imagination like that." Ami put her phone away in her bag. "Well, I'm going inside. Masuda says nothing with apple is safe around him for long." She cast a sidelong look at Hirohashi and added brightly, "You can tell Shiruba I forgive him. If it weren't for him, Yuri and I wouldn't have gotten to perform together. But don't tell Horigoshi I said that!"

Hirohashi laughed sheepishly. "He really didn't know Horigoshi couldn't eat strawberries. If he had, he'd…" He trailed off, blushing.

Ami waved dismissively at him and opened the club room door. "It's fine, it's fine. Yuri, Sayuki, don't be too long! When Jinko gets here, we wanna get this party going!"

She gave a happy goodbye to Hejjiguchi and Kurimu, promising to leave room in her stomach so the trio could do another mini-celebration with food later. It was just Yuri and Sayuki chatting up the crowd for a bit, then the tall Kimura actress snuck out of the club room and attacked Sayuki, who hollered and jumped up on her back ("I'll drop you!" "No you won't! Onward!"). They took their roughhousing inside, and then it was just Yuri with all her fans.

Theoretically, Ayato could leave his hiding spot at the corner of the wall by the staircase. He could stroll right up, part the sea, and tell Yuri she'd done a great job.

Instead, he stayed where he was. Something held him back, kept him from interrupting. As if standing there with all her admirers, talking grandly at the center of attention, she had formed an impenetrable barrier between them.

He waited as the crowd began to thin out. The circle around her got smaller and smaller, and then the remaining students said their final congratulations and became like a thin stream trickling into the other hallways.

Yuri lingered for a moment, leaning against the wall with a tired little sigh. She got out her phone and sent a quick text, her smile turning sort of sad. He wondered if she was waiting for someone. Jinko and Tachibana, maybe. There was still traffic in the halls, students bounding past the drama club squealing about ice cream, steady footsteps and chatter nearby.

But Yuri put away her phone, grinning a bit more genuinely this time, and turned to reach for the door handle.

"So the rumors are true."

She froze before her fingertips grazed the handle. Her shoulders tensed, then her whole body. He wasn't the only one who recognized that voice.

Hisakawa emerged from another hallway, taking a few careful strides toward her. Just as suddenly as she'd advanced on Yuri, she stopped. Arms crossed, she stared at Yuri's back with a distrustful frown.

"You're actually letting yourself have friends now," she said.

With a sigh, Yuri let her hand drop loosely at her side. She muttered under her breath, as if to the door, "Don't start."

"'Don't start?'" Hisakawa repeated, an incredulous laugh cutting short and giving way to tense indignation. "You haven't spoken to me for almost three years and the first words I get are 'don't start'?"

Yuri turned slowly to face her. Even from a distance, he recognized the detached glaze in her eyes. It was that look she got when she was in a different world, locked in an empty white room with her memories. Hisakawa wouldn't be getting much out of her as long as she was like this.

"Let's just say I don't think you're here to congratulate me," she said crisply.

Ayato pressed himself against the wall, practically hugging the corner as he peered out at the two. Some kids looked oddly at him as they came down the stairs. He didn't mind that right now, as long as they kept it to themselves. He couldn't move from this spot. A voice inside him told him to leave, to "mind his own goddamn business," but something even stronger implored him to stay.

"The others wanted to, you know," Hisakawa told her. _Others?_ "They thought you were great. But they're not here because they don't want to bother you." Her eyebrows drew together as she gave her a reproachful frown. "Saki said she saw you watching our field practice in October, and she waved at you. And you completely blew her off."

"I wasn't watching," Yuri said stubbornly. "I was heading home."

Hisakawa looked supremely unimpressed.

"They've all wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt," she went on, narrowing her eyes as she dismissed Yuri's excuse. "Even for this long. That you're in a funk, that life is terrible and you just want to be alone… they get that. They enable it. They forced _me_ to enable it with them!"

Yuri glared at her, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Her eyes had been straying to the floor, to the windows, anywhere else, but they snapped back to meet Hisakawa's at the mention of enablement. Her jaw clenched in anger.

"But then we kept hearing about you and that Naoi kid—" Yuri soured some more—"and then joining drama club and hanging out with people at lunch like everything's great again."

Hisakawa began to raise her voice. She hadn't been hard to hear before, even from his hiding spot. Now her aggravated tone must've carried down a few hallways, and even to other floors. The footsteps of curious students echoed on the staircase.

"I guess life isn't your enemy anymore," said Hisakawa, standing taller. "Just us, right? Just me?"

Yuri flinched. "Look, Hisakawa—"

"Don't Hisakawa me!" she yelled, bristling through a growl. "This has gone on for _way_ too long. We were your best friends, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

A handful of bystanders had arrived by this point. Many of them girls, they crowded around corners or stood blatantly in the halls to witness the spectacle. If anyone had noticed Ayato there as well, they were too busy whispering to each other to care.

"It's Hisakawa and Nakamura!"

"Chitose and Yuri?"

"They're actually talking to each other?"

"What's going on?"

But Yuri and Hisakawa didn't seem to hear them; if they did, they ignored their thin and transient audience. Now Yuri's hands were clenched into fists as she took a step away from the door.

"You were my best friend," she admitted coldly, "and you didn't even understand—"

"Understand what? Your whole guilt trip?" Hisakawa scoffed at her. "No, I didn't understand. I don't understand how you can still put this on either of us!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "All I did was invite you to my fucking birthday party!"

"Just leave me the hell alone!" Yuri snarled. Her shoulders were hunched to her ears defensively and the detached glaze in her eyes was brighter than ever.

"No! I am so sick of sharing your blame!"

For quite a few students, anxiety overpowered curiosity and they discreetly rushed past in great fear. The rest disappeared into classrooms or took to the stairs, but peeked interestedly from windows and cracked doors or railings.

"So you went out and had fun without them, so your grandparents were wonderful people and wanted to take them to a nice restaurant instead." Hisakawa flung out her arms again, eyes wide with frustration. "Did we tell them to? Did we drive the car? Did we make all the ice and snow?"

Yuri looked more upset, stricken with an expression Ayato couldn't describe. As if she wanted to swing a fist, or run, or barricade herself in the club room. But she just stood there, frozen, taking it with little more than a petrified glower.

Them… Ice and snow…

He realized with a sick feeling in his chest – they were talking about her siblings.

"And you think—" Hisakawa cut herself off with a sharp sniff, a shaken breath. "You act like I didn't even care about them too. Like you've completely forgotten how much we wanted your brother to marry Satomi someday, just so we could finally be real sisters." Yuri's breath hitched as she pointedly averted her eyes. "You don't even stop to think that maybe you're not the only one who loved them—"

"Then why didn't you invite them," Yuri muttered coldly.

"YURI!" she hollered, gawping at her as she boiled with outraged disbelief. "You and I both agreed it was exclusively a gymnastics team sleepover!"

Yuri pursed her lips very thinly, shifting on her feet and looking cowed, while Hisakawa paced around the vicinity in a sort of riled distress.

"I remember when you wished I never even invited you in the first place," she said heatedly, her voice echoing against the walls. "But your grandparents still would've gone if you'd been home. They would've taken you with them in that car."

She whirled around and pointed a finger in Yuri's face, which had now twisted in anticipatory rage.

"I saved your life, Yuri. I _saved_ you!"

Yuri smacked her hand away with a contemptuous cry. "Remember what happened the last time you said that to me?" she threatened, making a fist.

Hisakawa piqued an eyebrow at her.

"Go on, break my nose again," she said loftily. "It doesn't make it any less true. You scared us all so much when you kept acting like you wished you'd died in that car with them."

Ayato's fingers clutched the wall a bit more tightly.

"We cared, and you just – stopped. You blamed us and let your life implode." Hisakawa cocked her head at her. "Didn't you think for one second that maybe Shion and Ajisai would want—"

"You don't get to tell me what they would want!" Yuri snapped.

"They would want you to be happy!" Hisakawa argued, shrill and vehement in her words and movements. To Yuri's right, the club room door slid open a few centimeters, but both girls ignored it. "If you love someone and they love you, they'd want you to live your best life! You can live on, you can live _for_ them, they'd never ask you to be miserable for them!"

Yuri stared at her balefully. "I'm not miserable," she said through clenched teeth.

"Then why are you still ignoring us?" Hisakawa demanded.

"I don't have anything to say to you."

Ayato frowned severely from his hiding spot, nails digging into the concrete. Hisakawa kept tearing into her like this; why wouldn't Yuri stand up for herself? Her muttered, short-winded sentences and snarls were so… spiritless. Where was her fire?

Hisakawa looked just as agitated, looming over Yuri with a withering look (he only just realized that the girl was a head taller than her).

"This grudge isn't just unhealthy, it's _pathetic_ ," she huffed. Edging back a step, she regarded Yuri with a dour grimace and a soft headshake. "You don't even care how I feel, do you? How you made all of us feel. We were your family too!"

The club door creaked briefly as if a movement had unsettled it. Hisakawa seemed to notice a round-eyed Ami peeping out at them at the same time Ayato did. She stared at the girl with mild curiosity, then turned her attention back to Yuri.

"Why bother having friends again?" Hisakawa said darkly, squinting at her with sad eyes. "You don't even know how to be one anymore!"

Yuri choked on an indignant gasp, curling a lip at her – no, was it trembling? She was trembling. Her shoulders had fallen like a lowered shield, and her clenched fists were shaking at her sides.

And Hisakawa, who didn't know when to quit, added with a pitying scowl: "You don't even remember how to be a _sister_."

Too far. Too goddamn far. The brokenness that crumpled Yuri's features was the final crack, like glass shattering in his head, and Ayato slammed his hand against the wall and barreled around the corner.

"That's enough, Hisakawa!" he shouted from the end of the hall.

Both girls' heads whipped around at his voice as he stormed towards them with purpose. Hisakawa blinked, mildly affected by the intrusion, while Yuri's green eyes grew wide with shock.

"Yuri doesn't owe you anything," he said firmly, coming up beside her. "For your information, she's still the best friend anyone could have on their side. She's steadfast and loyal, and the strongest person I know." Softening, his gaze fell on Yuri in that moment, and he laid a protective hand on her shoulder. Then his eyes narrowed as they fell back on Hisakawa. "You have no right to talk to her like that!"

Hisakawa pursed her lips at him, looking almost speculative.

"I don't know why you're defending her. From what I've heard, you two haven't spoken in weeks." Then she flashed a sort of sardonic smile with a slight head tilt of intrigue. "What'd you do? Ask her out while her parents were getting mugged?"

"I pushed her too hard," he told her, a confession mainly meant for Yuri. "As I imagine you did."

"All I did was try to bring her back to life," Hisakawa said defensively, crossing her arms at the both of them. "I didn't push her, she pushed me out, and I bet she pushed you out too. It's what she does!"

She turned a cold gaze to Yuri, vexation glowing through blue ice.

"Clinging to the past, suffering alone, throwing blame around? That's no way to live."

"Her life is her own business and none of yours!" Ayato snapped, pointing a warning finger at her. "She's living it as best she can, or didn't you see her up there on that stage?" Yuri's shoulder tensed under his grip; she side-eyed him in surprise. "You're the one clinging to the past if you can't even be happy for her! You've had your rant, now get the hell out of here."

Silence fell, although friction fogged the air in the hallway as Hisakawa studied the two of them for an everlasting moment. Ayato could hear, in those tense few seconds, the play's faint heartbeat sound in the back of his mind.

Then Hisakawa heaved a sigh, as if dealing with them had exhausted her.

"Whatever," she said. "Just get _over_ yourself, Yuri."

She turned on her heel and headed down towards the hallway from which she had come. Her long hair followed her with a flourish, like some sort of billowing copper-colored cape, as she loped away in an affected haste.

Before she turned the corner, she yelled over her shoulder: "It wasn't your fault and it sure as hell wasn't mine!"

When she had gone, and her quick and angry footsteps got lost among all the other sounds, Ayato turned more fully to Yuri. She hadn't said a word this whole time. She was still just staring at the windows where Hisakawa had once stood. At the trees outside losing their leaves, and the blue-grey clouds billowing above the campus. Resting both hands on her shoulders, he gently turned Yuri to face him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Yuri looked up at him in disbelief, biting her lip as her emerald eyes glimmered too bright. Too bright against her pale, trembling skin. She opened her mouth to say something, but what came out instead was a strangled breath and a squeak that made his stomach sink. Wetness sparkled on her eyelashes as she choked on another sob. Ayato nearly reeled back in distress – it occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever truly seen Yuri cry.

The dam broke, and an alarming wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. He reached for her but she grabbed for him first. Burying her head in his chest, she clutched at the fabric of his shirt and began to sob. He embraced her, closing his eyes and resting his chin on her head as he stroked her hair. His heart ached at her cries, at the things he'd said all those weeks ago, at the overwhelming realization of how much he'd missed her.

And at her wails of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" while he wondered to himself, if her desperate apologies were entirely directed at him.

* * *

Hearing her stubborn friend cry so earnestly tugged and prodded at Ami's heart. Thinking maybe Naoi could use her assistance, she tried to step out of the room – only to be halted by a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up in surprise to see Masuda standing over her with a solemn look in his golden eyes.

"I think they need to be alone," he said quietly.

Ami hesitated, hearing that trademark edge of wisdom in his tone. She stared out at the two for a second, giving the pair another good long look. Then she nodded in understanding.

The club room door rumbled closed.

* * *

 **A/N: Holy shit, this chapter. Finally.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _I know a place."_

" _Sometimes I wonder if they ever felt left out."_

" _You didn't make them do anything."_

" _I couldn't_ deal _with her."_

" _They were looking at you?"_

" _She's always been that strange."_

" _I liked his attention better."_

" _We had a deal, remember?"_

" _It's not enough."_

" _I can't_ believe _you!"_

[Chapter 31]: **Eternities Still Unsaid.**


	31. Eternities Still Unsaid

**A/N: Last chapter for this arc! Make sure you've read 29 and 30 if you haven't already. I always get nervous when I update irregular to my schedules. While I'm happy to say that I've written all the way up to Chapter 34, and hope to work on 35 soon, I'm probably going to set my sights on writing HC. It's been laying dormant for too long, gotta break that sleeping curse.**

 **Zain and Cha0T1cPeace, I thoroughly enjoyed your Chitose rants! And I'm glad you liked the Naoi/Kanade run-in as much as I did. I like your ideas on Chitose - trust me when I say you haven't seen the last of her! I would almost call her the cryptid of this series; she'll pop up once in a while so readers can get to know her. Also, this chapter should explain the Yuri/Chitose thing a little more.**

 **Posting this now so I can get ready to go visit my siblings. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 31]: Eternities Still Unsaid_

* * *

After they'd pulled apart, Yuri had felt very aware that she'd had a fight and a breakdown in the middle of a hallway.

"Can we go somewhere?" she'd asked quietly, abashed as she sniffled through a nervous laugh. "I don't want to be here, but I don't want to go home either."

Ayato had thought for a second, then said, "I know a place."

They snuck out through a side door, cut across campus, and went on their usual trek through town. But when they reached their first turning point, he led her in a different direction into the forest. He'd particularly enjoyed the growing realization in her eyes when they took to the left trail.

Now they were standing on the bridge, both draped against the handrail and gazing out over the steady river. More than half-skeletal trees and a sunless sky looming over them.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she side-eyed him curiously. "For… acting like a brat that day, and getting so intrusive. I shouldn't have been so demanding of you."

With a frown, Yuri turned back to the water. "You weren't wrong. I was being a dodgy bitch."

He winced. He had said that, hadn't he? The words sounded so cruel echoed back to him from her mouth.

"Masuda was right. I should have just told you."

"Why didn't you?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her. "I already know what happened with your family."

"Dunno." Her lips curved upward into a wry half-grin, her voice quiet and reflective. "I guess I didn't want you to know what a horrible friend I am."

"Don't say that."

For a moment, silence settled between them – filled only by flowing water and a mild gust of wind that rattled the trees. A few colorful leaves landed in the river and gently floated downstream. Then Yuri sighed, closing her eyes for a minute before casting him a soft glance. "How much did you hear, anyway?"

He considered his words, thinking back to his hiding place by the stairs.

"All of it, to be honest," he said vaguely.

Yuri nodded. "Then you have a general idea of what happened."

"I heard her side of it," he countered. For the most part, Yuri had been strikingly close-mouthed as Hisakawa had lambasted her in the hallway. He thought of Masuda, and added, "I want to know yours."

She lowered her eyes to the water again, absentmindedly stroking the rail with a thumb. "It's stupid, really."

In that moment, he was almost positive that it wasn't.

"We were best friends," she said, which he'd already gathered. "From primary all the way up till high school. I used to tell Shion and Ajisai she was the other sister we were always meant to have." She tried at a feeble laugh then, shaking her head at her past self. "Terrible thing to say, when you think about it. Like they weren't good enough."

"Didn't they like her too?" he asked, musing. Although he could understand them wanting Yuri all to themselves, they might've enjoyed having two cool big sisters watching over them.

"Yeah, they did." Yuri pursed her lips into a small line, neither a smile nor a frown. Just… reflection. "When our parents were away and I was too young to babysit, her family would look after us sometimes. She had a bunch of aunts and uncles and grown up cousins who visited a lot, so five kids in one house was nothing to them." She sounded sort of wistful as she described it. "And we'd all play together. But then Hisakawa and I would let them play with her sister Satomi while we went off and did our own thing. You know, go off on our big kid adventures? Sometimes I wonder if they ever felt left out."

Ayato frowned at this. "You'd never mean to."

"But I did, didn't I?" she said softly, more to herself than him. "I joined gymnastics, made friends with the whole team. We were inseparable. They'd even come over when I was babysitting. I think that made my siblings happy. If our parents weren't home, I was guaranteed to be, and they'd have this… this _parade_ of big kids cartwheeling around and watching TV with them."

She laughed then, and he laughed with her. It was a cute mental picture; personally he considered her siblings very lucky.

"Chitose even—" Yuri paused her laughter, furrowing her brows when she caught herself. "Well, my mom's pretty good at web design and computer science. So she taught us coding when we were twelve, and Hisakawa thought it was really cool so we designed these crappy websites for them. Saki would record Ajisai singing something and upload it… it was so cute. Her voice…"

Yuri's words faltered with a crack and a sharp, watery breath. Ayato glanced at her in alarm.

"If it's too much…" he said, not keen on hearing her cry again.

Yuri shook her head.

"No, I'm okay." She sniffled quietly, and wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. "You know… the last thing I ever heard her sing was a birthday message to Hisakawa. Over the phone."

She stopped again, and rubbed at her temples with two fingers. Silently he wondered if it wasn't a discreet attempt at wiping away more tears.

"It's so messed up," she murmured. "We were supposed to be visiting my grandparents – they didn't have time to see us very much, but when they did, they loved to spoil us. But all I could think was that it meant they could babysit and I could go to that stupid party."

Petulantly, she kicked the schoolbag at her feet. He didn't have the heart to tell her it was his.

"And they _let_ me," she sniffed. "They knew I was being selfish and they let me."

He said nothing, only waited for her to continue. Yet he narrowed his eyes in thought. It sounded to him like they had loved her enough to let her go have fun with a friend.

Maybe he didn't know as much about family as she did. Or even grandparents. His dad's father had died of a heart attack months before Ayato was born, his mother following only two years later. His only living grandparent, his maternal grandmother, was too old (and scared of Kimito) to do more than call. He didn't exactly know what grandparents were supposed to do or not do. But certainly, it seemed reasonable that they might let kids be kids.

If she'd noticed his skepticism, she was too deep in her own mind to notice.

"If I'd stayed with my siblings," she clutched the railing to steady herself, "if I'd skipped the party and hung out with my family… they wouldn't have gone." She gazed out towards the trees with a pained look etched into her features. "They knew they were bad at driving in the winter. They knew it was going to snow. But they wanted to take Shion and Ajisai to dinner anyway – to cheer them up after I'd ditched them."

She closed her eyes as shame turned to resigned anguish. A brisk November wind nipped at their hair, and she hugged herself tightly at the cold.

"The police said there was a lot of black ice and they lost control. Another car drove straight into their side and knocked them off the side of the road. Upside down in a snowy ditch."

Her voice sounded chilled, like she was right back there with them. She was in that white room again – the one he sometimes pictured when she got lost in her memories like this. Only it seemed to him now as though the room was whiter than he imagined. He didn't want her trapped with them; at this point he almost wanted to shake her out of it.

"It was a while before anyone stopped to help, but it wouldn't have mattered." Finally her eyes opened again, she cast the water a bitter smile. "And meanwhile, I'm at Chitose's, painting toenails and braiding Saki's hair."

Ayato had seen car wrecks like that before, on TV and in dark corners of video-sharing websites. They got particularly bad in winter. Some cars skidding on ice into the wrong lane just in time to get annihilated by a truck. Others making too sharp of a turn and reaping the consequences. At the time he watched them, they'd been riveting. But now he thought of Shion and Ajisai, eyes wide with terror as they noticed the other car. Small bodies being thrashed around like little dolls as the car tumbled, or already crushed by the impact. Who could know?

He had been there with his brother when he died. He knew exactly how he went. He had hit his head on the rock and gone fast, no suffering. Yuri couldn't say the same. She had not gone with them. She had partied with a friend.

But… all possibilities considered, was that such an unforgivable sin?

"You couldn't have known," he argued. She'd said it herself, they shouldn't have been on the road. "Your grandparents could've made them dinner at home, watched movies, let them stay up late and sleep in a pillow fort. You didn't make them do anything."

"I chose my friends over them," Yuri said, stubbornly despondent. "The last thing I ever did as a big sister was abandon them."

He took in her words with a furrowed forehead. Hisakawa's rants from before resurfaced and began to eat away at his brain. If Yuri hadn't gone to the party, wasn't it possible her grandparents would've wanted to spoil her too? Perhaps a treat to make up for missing her best friend's birthday for them? What if…

Shaking away the thought, his hand drifted uncertainly to Yuri's wrist.

"You don't…" he paused, and swallowed nervously before continuing the thought, "you don't really wish you'd been in that car, do you?"

Yuri looked up at him, surprised, before her expression softened into one of reassurance.

"No," she said. Her conviction relaxed him, and yet there was still some unnerving hesitation in her voice as she went on. "For a while, I… I thought I should have been. I just… wish I'd never gone to that party. I wish it'd been moved to any other day. Or that she never invited me at all. I wish I'd appreciated my family more while I still had one."

"I see." He moved his hand away, thinking.

But in a way, he didn't see. Or, he couldn't understand how she couldn't. It amazed him really. Here he was, thinking she felt invincible in all regards, when her strongest feature was the one she underestimated the most. If she was anything like what he'd seen in pictures, and even onstage today, it was hard to believe she'd ever been anything less than a devoted big sister.

"So you blame yourself," he noted. "And Hisakawa too."

Yuri sighed.

"I don't know how to explain it," she admitted, turning around and leaning against the railing. "I was fourteen; it was a dramatic time for me. The rest of our friends gave me some space for a while, but Hisakawa…" She closed her eyes again, scrunching up her face as if glowering into the past. "Ugh, it was just the way she handled it..."

"What'd she do?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her. Though after today's debacle, he had a general idea.

"She… _ugh_." Yuri curved her lips into yet another grimace, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "You'd have to know her. She's got this complex, this… horrendously idealistic view of the world."

Ayato was suddenly reminded of that day in the shop, that grand speech of hers, and gave a sympathetic cringe.

"She's always like, _Oh, life is an adventure! Roll with the punches! Let's enjoy it!_ " Yuri continued, throwing her arms out exaggeratedly. An eerily spot-on impression of her old friend. She gave a rich, derisive snort. "Not exactly what you want to hear after you've actually gone through pain. I wanted to tell her: shut up, easy for you to say, but life sucks. The world is cruel – leave me the fuck alone."

A snicker of complete understanding slipped through his teeth, and he grinned at her in an attempt to lighten the mood. "So she was like your Hejjiguchi."

"Pretty close," she agreed, leaning back on both propped elbows. "She likes school, she finds fulfillment everywhere, she still has her little sister. I just… I couldn't _deal_ with her.

"She cornered me after a few weeks of avoiding her, going off on one of her _concerned_ rants about how I needed to rejoin the living world. And I just… snapped." Her eyes flew open as the wind jostled some stubborn leaves off the branches. "Told her it was partially her fault I hadn't been there for my family, and I didn't want to hear any more of her _'stop being sad and start loving life with me again'_ crap."

She rolled her eyes.

"We fought, she claimed she _saved my life_ —" she paused to jab a fist in the air—"I punched her in the face."

Ayato smirked. Truth be told, he liked the mental image.

"I suppose you two stopped being friends after that," he said drolly.

Yuri just shrugged.

"I stopped being friends with everyone after that." She looked reminiscent again, staring off through the trees at a neighborhood in the far distance. "Dropped out of gymnastics, ate lunch on the roof, only ever really talked to people in my class."

"For… two, almost three years?" he guessed, remembering what Hisakawa had said and piquing his eyebrows at her. "Why?"

"I'd pretty much convinced myself I didn't deserve friends after I'd put them above my own blood." Her gaze dropped to her shoes, which scuffed at the wood. "Besides, I doubted anyone would really understand what I was going through." She looked up again – this time at him. Eyes soft and unsure. "Until I met you."

He stared back at her in surprise, turning to her and likely doing a bad job of hiding the affection that had stirred in his chest.

"N… Ayato… I'm so sorry," Yuri said, with a sincerity that tugged him too close as she touched his hand. "I pushed you away too. And I got so invested in the drama club mission that I—"

"No," he stopped her, squeezing her hand, "you were having fun. You were… making friends again. I shouldn't have made it about me."

"But you're my best friend!" she insisted. "You're…"

She trailed off, averting her eyes sheepishly to the river below.

"I should've been able to tell you everything." Her voice was quieter now, laced with a rueful shame he wished he'd never put upon her. "It was just… a part of my life I didn't want to think about. I wanted to keep you separate from that life. If that makes sense."

"I understand," Ayato said almost immediately. "Like with you and my father."

Yuri regarded him for a moment, mulling over the analogy. Then she flushed and winced sheepishly again. "And I was pushy about that, wasn't I…"

He shook his head. "It's fine—"

"It's not. I'm such a hypocrite," Yuri said, laughing to herself. "You just wanted to know what was bothering me. But with your dad… I just wanted to spend more time with you."

Ayato felt like an imbecile. A guilty, selfish, narcissistic imbecile. "I'm sorry I ever thought otherwise."

Yuri looked guilty too. She sighed and turned back to the river.

They ruminated in silence for a couple of minutes. He watched her pick up some spare stones and bark and toss them at the water. Her throwing arm wasn't too bad; the stones made some distance. He wondered if she ever taught her siblings to do that.

She must've spent a lot of time with them after all. Despite what she'd said. They were very dear to her heart, or else she wouldn't mourn them so strongly as to forsake everyone else. In all honesty, he pitied Hisakawa in a way. These past three weeks had been awful; he couldn't imagine going three years without her. It would be hard to see her anywhere, without…

His eyes opened in realization.

"So when people stared at us in the hall," he said carefully, rubbing at his neck, "…they were looking at you?"

Yuri blinked, dropping the last stone into the water with a tiny plop.

"Probably," she reasoned. "After everything, I always walked alone. Things are different now – makes sense that people might've noticed." Then, she tilted her head at him. "You thought they were staring at you?"

"I thought I was the problem," Ayato told her. She raised an eyebrow. "People would notice you, look like they wanted to say something, hesitate and walk away." Realization hit him the more he explained, and he snorted at himself. "I thought I was scaring them off."

Yuri laughed too. "That's what that was?"

Ayato grinned at her. "Maybe it's a good thing. I scared off Hisakawa for you."

"Thanks for that," she said with a smile. "But I doubt she's afraid of you. She's the 'I'm leaving because I want to' type." She fixed him with an inspecting stare. "Besides, didn't the two of you have a certain friendly chat last month? Ami says you two had lunch together."

Her tone was so transparent that he had trouble stifling a smirk. Coyly, he reassured her, "Don't be jealous. She came by my classroom to drop off something of Hejjiguchi's." He wrinkled his nose for good measure. "All we talked about was stress dreams and her dead fish."

Unexpectedly, Yuri gave a small gasp.

"Was it Mamoru?" she asked, astonishment taking over her face. "That grumpy old beast finally went belly-up?"

"You knew him?"

"She had him since she was a baby, or so she says," Yuri told him matter-of-factly, but gave a dubious shake of her head. "I swear those things aren't supposed to live that long. The bastard used to bite my finger – probably had fish dentures or something."

"A feud so powerful you hate the girl's pets," Ayato said, impressed.

She frowned, crossing her arms again. "Well, now you've made me feel bad. She grew up with the damn thing. We'd go upstairs to get on her computer and Mamoru would be there in his king-sized aquarium just staring and blowing kisses at me. That's what she called it at least." Mockingly, she dialed her voice up to a shrill giddy wail. " _Oh, Mamoru, you're such a flirt!_ "

He snickered at her impression, albeit a little perturbed. "Aren't people usually a cat or dog person?"

"Don't even get me started," Yuri said, raising a hand to halt him. But she snickered too, muscles in her jaw visibly relaxing. "She's always been that strange. When we were younger, we used to do the most ridiculous stuff. Climb onto roofs, scale buildings, explore tunnels and caves or other tight-squeeze places. Sometimes she'd have us bring tools, like spades or shovels, and I'd say, 'Oh, we're digging for treasure?' and she'd say, 'Sure' but then, 'oh, there was a cave-in! We need to rescue this person!' And I'd be like, 'Oh, okay' because that was really cool and more intense than treasure hunting.

"But she did that sort of thing a lot when we played together," Yuri recalled. "She'd want to act out scenes where we were on high places and she would save me or one of our other friends from falling or something."

Ayato considered all of this, and pursed his lips.

"That would explain the big deal she made about saving you from the crash," he said thoughtfully. "I take it she has a hero complex."

"You bet," she confirmed, then kicked at the wooden railing for no clear reason. "After all the years of her parents telling her she could be or do whatever she wanted, she thinks she's invincible. She even had a superhero cape as a kid. I'm not exaggerating."

She laughed then, probably thinking of Hisakawa in a cape. As he was doing right now – although he found it much funnier that Yuri of all people would have something to say about perceived invincibility.

"I think it made her mad that she couldn't drag me out of my 'funk,'" she said, absently watching some leaves tumble into the river. "Like saving people, the act of rescue, is more important for her than it is for them."

"I do remember her telling me _don't dwell on it too much_." He harrumphed a little at the memory. It hadn't bothered him that much then, but knowing what he knew, it did now. He regarded Yuri musingly, letting all she'd told him soak in. "Sometimes, people need to dwell. You could push a baby bird out of the nest before it's ready, but the consequences won't be pleasant."

"Hmm." Yuri made a small sound of agreement, meeting his gaze. "She doesn't understand limitations like you do."

Ayato shot her a questioning scoff. "Thanks?"

She laughed. "I meant it in a good way."

"Even so…" He turned to her, chancing a small smile. "I'm glad you left the nest."

Yuri gave him a soft look, the budding smile on her lips standing in for whatever words she did or didn't have. A comfortable silence settled in as they watched little red and orange leaves sail like little boats over the rocks in the stream.

It didn't last long. Maybe a minute or so later, Yuri straightened up as if she'd just thought of something.

"Your turn," she said.

"What?"

"I had to pour my heart out just now." Yuri drummed her fingers on the wooden railing. "We haven't done that in a while, as you pointed out during our fight. So… now you have to tell me something about your past."

He pinched his forehead at her in confusion. "What do you—"

She interrupted, "Why don't you tell me about Hayato?"

Again, she'd caught him off-guard. He turned to her, bracing his hip against the rail and crossing his arms. "You already know everything."

"I know he died, and I know your parents still miss him," said Yuri, leaning on her elbow and resting her chin on her fist. "But I don't know how _you_ feel. You mention him in passing, like he's some neighbor who moved away. But he was your twin brother. This whole other Naoi."

He must've made some sort of stunned face, because for a second she lost some of her reserve.

"My dad doesn't like to talk about his brother either," she said, oddly demure in her tone. "I just thought…"

"What happened to your dad's brother?" Ayato asked, interested. This was the first he'd heard of her parents' siblings.

"Even I don't know that," she said with a shrug, then pointed an accusing finger at him. "But don't change the subject. Don't identical twins have a deep, unshakable emotional bond?"

"I suppose so." Ayato rubbed his chin, trying to think back more than six years. He wouldn't go right to unshakable.

Yuri was looking at him expectantly, so he tried a little harder.

"I guess you could say he was my first best friend, and my first rival," he conceded. That was the best way to put it; somehow they could be both at once. "We were always fighting for our father's attention – but come to think of it, I liked his attention better. Getting scolded by Kimito was no fun. Sitting in my room alone with nothing but books and handheld games… I could take it or leave it."

He glanced down the bridge at the dirt road, the trees, the grassy ups and downs covered in blankets of leaves.

"But when training was over and done with," he gestured around at everything, "my brother and I used to play in these woods."

"What was he like?"

"An idiot," Ayato replied automatically, and Yuri laughed in surprise. "Seriously, the only reason I wasn't the one bossing him around was because he was the older twin and I didn't know any better. He was probably a good potter because his brain was made out of modeling clay," he added scornfully. "Kimito could make him into whatever he wanted."

But he paused, taking in his surroundings, and felt a guilty twinge in his heart. As easy as it was to joke with Yuri about this, it felt wrong to speak ill of the dead. Particularly of Hayato, in this very forest. It was the playground he'd lived and died on.

"He'd be so focused during training," he amended, "but outside of the workshop he was a completely different person." Grinning as his eyes fell on a tall tree and a memory came to him, he added, "The type of person who, if he caught you running toward something, would zoom up behind you, run as hard as he could, and _slap_ whatever it was in triumph before you could get to it."

"Shion used to do that!" Yuri said, laughing with a bright-eyed nostalgic joy. "Ajisai would always get so mad at him."

"Brothers, right? Everything is always a competition with us," Ayato said proudly, glad he'd brought a happy memory to her mind. Then he rolled his eyes and grinned halfheartedly. "But… looking back, it was kind of funny. I would be so lazy if it weren't for him. He was a big nature lover. The only reason I learned to climb trees was because he knew how to do it."

He looked out at the woods, at the swaying and snapped and overturned branches.

"I still like walking through forests even now," he said as an afterthought. "It's where we were always the most free."

Yuri nodded, worrying her lip as her green eyes scanned the trees. She looked as if she were trying to picture a younger version of him, shimmying up the trunk and fooling around like one of those schoolyard idiots.

"Do you miss him, then?" she asked, smoothing a wind-mussed lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," he said, after giving it some thought. "I miss having a brother."

It felt strange to say. Was this… the first time he'd outright admitted it? That made sense; he couldn't think of anyone else who might've bothered to ask. The thought slipped through the corridors of his mind from time to time, but he'd never said it. Never… never really confronted it. He'd been too busy trying to please Kimito, to make up for his absence, to hold on to himself.

He stared up at the treetops, catching glimpses of grey sky.

"Sometimes… it feels like I've stolen his identity." A flicker of a dream came to mind: of a hospital room, and a yelling Kimito, and the wrong name etched into hardened clay. "If that stupid branch hadn't broken, he would've been Kimito's successor, and I…" He caught Yuri staring at him expectantly, and scratched his hair with a halfhearted grin. "I don't know. I would've had someone fun to annoy."

Yuri chuckled, then reached over and touched his shoulder.

"If it helps," she told him meaningfully, "you do annoy Hejjiguchi."

"Definitely not good enough," he said, but the grin didn't waver from his face.

She didn't ask another question or press him for any more information, which was good, because he didn't know what else to say about that part of his life. Too many existential crises he didn't want to unearth.

Besides that, he supposed he could show her the place where Hayato had fallen. But then again, that seemed too macabre.

"So I guess we're caught up on each other's profound personal secrets then," he said, looking at her hopefully.

"Yeah…" Yuri confirmed with a light chuckle, and he was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when her eyes sprung open and she kind of slapped at his sleeve in realization. "Hey, wait! You never told me your thing!"

Ayato jumped at the contact, blinking twice in bewilderment. What was she talking about? "I just finished telling you—"

"Not your sad backstory!" Yuri said impatiently, grabbing at his arm and jostling it a little. "We had a deal, remember? On my birthday I said I wouldn't ask you about your thing if you didn't ask about mine. You got mine, what's yours?"

He gawped at her, dumbfounded. "I sort of screamed it at you after the fight. When you were walking away."

"You did?" Now it was her turn to bat her eyes cluelessly. "I didn't catch it."

"Oh," he said, doubtful. She was so keen to hear it. After all they'd discussed today, he wasn't sure. "Well. I mean, I've said it before, it wasn't that big a deal—"

"Ayato."

He sighed, giving his bangs a petulant huff.

Still Yuri prodded at him, and leaned on her elbow again like she was waiting patiently for a juicy story. "Come on. I think it had to do with your mom, and… trusting her with something?"

He sighed again. She was never going to let up. It _was_ only fair, and it would get worse the longer he put it off.

"I'd made you a gift for your birthday," he told her, arms crossed as he recalled three months ago. He could still see it – cradled in his hands, in his mother's hands, in little pieces on the floor. "A coffee mug, glazed mostly purple with some green at the top."

Yuri's eyes brightened at the thought, clearly picturing it herself. They were her favorite colors.

"My mother offered to hide it for me until I could give it to you. Stupidly, I let her." His palm smacked against the railing, which startled Yuri a bit. Then he saw her face dim as she realized she had never gotten the mug. "Kimito found it the next day, and…" He chewed at the inside of his mouth. "Well, I'd rather have given it to you in one piece."

Yuri pushed herself up from the railing and turned to face him, stunned and vaguely apologetic.

"I told you that you didn't have to get me anything," she said, quietly but firmly.

"But I wanted to."

"Your presence was enough."

"It's _not_ enough."

"It is to me," Yuri insisted, putting a hand over her heart. "You came to see the play. My parents wouldn't even do that."

Her parents were on _another_ business trip? Then again, this didn't come as too much of a shock. But Kimito would probably be itching for their patronage within a week. And also, more importantly, he could hear the pain in Yuri's voice.

"They missed out. It was a good play," he told her. She beamed at him. Embarrassingly enough, his stomach punctuated the review with a low growl. "But very long," he added, and reached down to pick up his schoolbag.

He was discreet in sneaking a cake from his bento box – Yuri's kick from earlier must've shifted the lid – but apparently not discreet enough. Yuri missed him popping the cake into his mouth as she sized up his schoolbag.

"You have food?" She stepped closer and tried to peek into it expectantly. "I'm hungry too – I was onstage the whole time!"

He quickly swept it away from her prying hands. "Not the _whole_ time."

She swiped at it again. "C'mon! What've you got in there?"

He held it up out of her reach – but neglected to consider the fact that she was a good jumper.

"Hey!" he protested as she successfully wrestled the bag from him.

"Now you're just being suspicious," Yuri said cheekily, and glanced inside. Then she gave a teensy frown, as the bento box's innards had spilled out during the struggle. "Wait." She reached in and picked up a cake, narrowing her eyes. "Where did you…"

He grinned at her.

Yuri stared.

"You…" She squinted some more, a light dawning on her crinkled face. She broke the cake apart and inspected it, then looked at him again. "You didn't. Did you?"

"Did I…?" he prompted, with an innocent head tilt.

Yuri looked flustered. "No! How could you have known that—"

He grinned some more, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. How could he have known? What a wonder, with talkative Ami in his class!

Apparently the same epiphany struck Yuri, whose eyes went wide with disbelief.

"You!" she gasped, hitting him with his schoolbag. "I can't _believe_ you!" The schoolbag dropped from her hands and she gave him a playful shove.

Ayato cackled hysterically as she batted at him – not even very hard, somewhat like frenzied flaps of a giant bat's wings. It only added to his triumphant laughter, and he easily grabbed at her flailing hands to intercept. She toppled slightly, pulled in by his snag.

It occurred to him then that they were now very close, him still holding her by her wrists. But had they ever really been cognizant of personal space? Yuri's cheeks were faintly tinged with pink. Though it could very well be stage makeup.

She smirked at him, flushed with pleasure. "You're evil, you know that?"

"I can be," he said loftily.

"There's no limit with you."

"None."

"You'd really do anything for me."

Encouraged by the impressed lilt in her tone, he started to make a noise of agreement. And then her words settled, and they made their impact. Like the ceramic mug against the wall, like the strawberries against Horigoshi's system. Like, more pleasantly, her commanding presence up there on that stage.

 _I would,_ he thought, staring at her. _I really would._

Yuri stared back, green eyes – vaguely aqua – alight with intrigue. A particularly strong wind coasted through, teasing at her hair and making the wooden bridge croak in dismay. For a moment, the forest smelled like autumn and chocolate and powdered stage blush.

And then, moderately muffled by a schoolbag, Yuri's cell phone gave a hearty buzz.

Whatever had taken hold of him in that moment broke instantly. Ayato coughed nervously and looked away, releasing her wrists when she cleared her throat. She bent down and retrieved her phone from a pocket.

"Oh, it's Ami." She peered at her phone and began to read the text out loud. " _Where are you, are you okay to join the after party? You just missed Tachibana._ Man!" She snapped the phone closed in defeat. "I totally forgot!"

When she looked up at him uncertainly, he waved a hand in dismissal. "Go. You deserve it. I should be getting home, anyway."

She accepted this at first, starting to send a reply text. Then she frowned at him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Your ceramics display is still at the school." Ayato closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. When he opened them, Yuri was looking over her shoulder from halfway across the bridge. "Walk with me?"

Picking up his schoolbag, he made quick strides to catch up with her, and they began the trek down the dirt trail towards town.

* * *

 **A/N: So ends this arc! Things might go at a little faster pace after this, honestly. It was October for 7-8 chapters! I like slowburn but I can't afford _that_ much slowburn... knowing when certain things are supposed to take place. (Well, I'll forgive this arc because school festivals are fun.)**

 **Anyways, while I work on both fics and decide when to start them back up, I leave you with a taste of what's to come.**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _There's something we haven't discussed."_

" _It wouldn't be that bad."_

" _She's not mad at me, right?"_

" _Take me to your idiots."_

" _You were so sad without each other."_

" _I don't snoop for free."_

" _Speak of the devil!"_

 _"She seems kind of nice."_

 _"Show some discretion!"_

[Chapter 32]: **Branching Out.**


	32. Branching Out

**A/N: Hey, back again with another TPS chapter! I won't be updating weekly but I told myself I'd update near the end of October. Close enough, eh? Thanks to ZainR for the review! Ah, their first bridge scene... I was so tempted to make it happen there at the end that I may have typed up a kiss scene and backspaced it (stupid slowburns). But something sure as hell flickered, didn't it?  
**

 **Now that it's NaNoWriMo, I think I should do a little work on this fic. For now, you can at least expect a couple more chapters between now and Christmas.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 32]: Branching Out_

* * *

The Monday after the festival, Yuri met Ayato at the fork in the path like she used to. And they walked to school like usual.

But as it happens, two friends couldn't wave a raw, thorough, reconciliatory heart-to-heart like a magic wand over their friendship and expect everything to go one hundred percent back to normal.

They'd been chatting aimlessly on their way through town, about this and that. He'd explained his mother's stress baking while sharing one of his monaka with her. Yuri had mused over how and when she could get a recording of the play to show to her parents. Idly he nodded along, thinking her parents ought to at least make time to watch a recording. But then his thoughts drifted to drama club. It occurred to him that although she'd joined him on their ritual walk to school, he would still not have her company after hours.

His gaze flicked to Yuri as she took a happy chomp of monaka, and another concern arose.

"There's something we haven't discussed," Ayato said, turning his eyes back to the road ahead of them. He stared into space, not wanting to seem too affected. "Where will you be eating now?"

Yuri made a small confused sound and swallowed her bite.

"Huh?" she asked, cocking her head like she hadn't heard him correctly. "Where will I be eating…?"

"Lunch. What's the lunch situation." He side-eyed her, noting her look of gradual understanding. "You've been having lunch with Ami and everyone for the past few weeks, isn't that right?"

"Yeah…"

"So…" he said, drawing out the word awkwardly. While he'd made it a goal, after Saturday's revelations, to be more respectful of her extroverted tendencies, this was where things might hit a rough patch.

He was willing to part with their walks home. It was a sacrifice he could handle. For their remaining chances together, he wasn't feeling all that altruistic. But that matter was up to Yuri.

"So…?"

"So what's your plan?" he finished, and cast a careful glance her way. "I don't suppose you're going to stop sitting with Ami altogether, just because we're friends again."

 _Are you?_

She became wildly interested in her shoes, and the pavement, and the Maeda coffee shop's window display they passed after the crosswalk. Her frown deepened, and her bottom lip suffered quite a bit of abuse for a minute.

Guilt gnawed just as tempestuously at his chest for having given her a subtle ultimatum. Him, or Ami and her beloved dimwits. Admittedly he was rather offended her choice would take this much thought. But it did have to come down to this. After all, what other option was there?

Yuri looked at him hopefully.

"Oh no," Ayato said when he was sure he'd accurately read the gleam in her eyes. "Absolutely not. I'd sooner sit in the locker room and eat gym socks."

"Hejjiguchi's gym socks?" Yuri asked sweetly, and he glared at her. She sobered but elbowed him. "Come _on_ , it wouldn't be that bad."

"You know how I feel about getting dragged in with them," he said, keeping his voice stern but not spiteful.

"Masuda will be there. He's cool, he's sort of the mediator in the group. I think you'd get along with him," Yuri reasoned – a point he begrudgingly found no way to dispute. "And, I'm sure you've noticed, Hejjiguchi and Kurimu were fighting for a while but I think they're not anymore. So they might not be a problem—"

"Oh yes. Thank you _very much_ for breaking them up, by the way." He squinted at her, still unimpressed and baffled by that one. "What on earth possessed you to tell him he'd been tricked?"

Yuri shrugged exaggeratedly. "He was being _annoying_!" she said, as if that explained it.

Then again, it _was_ a solid explanation.

"Hmm, compelling argument. I'll ask him to save me a seat." He rolled his eyes, then spotted an opportune fallen leaf and mercilessly crushed it under his shoe. "Remember your little girls-only lunches last week? I've _paid_ my dues with that idiot. _I_ should have been paid for couples counseling!"

"Oh God, you were left alone with him?" Yuri snorted into her fist, discreetly covering a grin, then considered this as the school campus came into view. "Well, look at it this way. Now you've probably already seen him at his worst."

"I'd not like to find out," he told her.

Yuri was still pondering as they walked through the gates together. She'd gone back to worrying her lip again, and looked to be solving equations in her head. Again, he regretted putting her in this situation. But he wasn't ready to yield just yet.

"You know," Yuri said thoughtfully, resting her chin on her thumb, "if he got too annoying, Ami could just put him in time-out again."

Although he secretly liked the idea, Ayato scoffed. "For my sake? Unlikely."

"She might," Yuri argued. "And if she doesn't, you and I will just have a lot of material for when we make fun of him later about all the stupid stuff he's said." She threw him another hopeful glance.

He squinted back at her, doubtful. Damn her – that was actually almost tempting.

"I'll think about it," he said gruffly. Yuri looked happy.

The tree-danglers were gathered under their trademark spot as he and Yuri approached the school. Nezumi looked at the pair, then glanced up and knocked against the trunk with his fist a couple of times. Shiruba dropped from a branch and trotted up to them. Ayato and Yuri exchanged glances before the three of them met in the middle.

"So," said Shiruba, trying to be casual, "word is, you two are friends again." He folded his arms at them, eyes darting back and forth between the two. "When… when did that happen, huh?"

Ayato stared. "Saturday. After her performance."

What did he care?

"Right. Yeah, I think I heard about that." Shiruba nodded in that strange continuous head-bobbing way, but eyed Yuri unsurely. "Hey, unrelated question. Did either of you two know about Horigoshi's issue with strawberries?"

"I knew after Saturday," Yuri said cheerily.

Ayato, getting a feel for where this was going, merely blinked at him.

"That sounds like something his _friend_ ought to know," he said wryly, fixing Shiruba with raised eyebrows and a measured stare. "Fairly important information if you're going to bake for someone."

Nezumi and Fujimoto laughed and hooted in the background. Shiruba's cheeks went very pink.

"Heh, good point," he said, and stuck out his hand. "No hard feelings?"

"Sure." They shook. The fool hadn't noticed he never answered the question; Ayato was still vaguely amused by this.

"Anyway, Ami's not even mad at me or anything," Shiruba went on with a smile. He paused, turning to Yuri expectantly this time. "She's not mad at me, right?"

Yuri shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. Hirohashi could be faintly be heard near the tree uttering an exasperated _yes_.

"I mean, you got to go onstage thanks to me," said Shiruba, puffing up proudly. "Who knows? Indirectly, I probably helped the two of you make up. That's what Nezumi says anyway."

"Couldn't have done it without you," Ayato said dryly.

"Hey, man, happy to help—"

"Shiruba! Does Ami have competition or something?" Nezumi hollered, leaning against the tree. "Let the poor guy go to class, ya big flirt!"

The boy looked pained for a second before throwing an irritable glare over his shoulder. Privately, Ayato thought that already this guy seemed ill-equipped to deal with Ami's high maintenance.

Not that it wouldn't be entertaining to watch him try.

"We'll tell her you said hi," he said amiably, possibly lying, and he and Yuri went on their way.

* * *

In class, he didn't get much time to think about Yuri's proposal. The trio behind him kept to themselves, yes, but there was an annoying buzz of whispers here and there from many corners of the room. It would hush when the teachers cleared their throats or intervened, but then Ayato's thoughts still couldn't trail off because they were saying something important. About the exams next month, or the upcoming parent meeting (which Kimito never went to), or a potential school trip in January. Diagonal from him, Ami squealed something about skiing and resorts being romantic.

"Ideally, Kawata, we're hoping it's the mountains you'll fall in love with," said the teacher, a little desperately. "But alright, bonding with your peers – that's important too."

That had gotten a laugh from the class – even Ayato, who'd initially rolled his eyes at Ami's sentiment. Surely she didn't think she was going to curl up with Hejjiguchi by some fireplace. He and Kurimu were on decidedly better terms this morning; the poor girl would have to keep looking. Or she'd just end up obliviously interrupting their secret mountaintop interludes, which was kind of an amusing thought.

Then lunch came, and he waited for everyone else to pile out of the classroom. He didn't want to keep Yuri waiting, but he also – wasn't keen on feeling like he was following them somewhere, like a shadow.

Ami had given him a look before they left. Unsure, from across the room, like she wanted to ask him a question. Then she'd changed her mind and started tapping away at her phone like it could give her a speedier answer. Masuda had looked too, especially after Ami accidentally bumped into him while she was texting. He turned away to politely laugh along with Kurimu at a joke Hejjiguchi just cracked (something about a cheese factory).

Ayato stared out the window and frowned anew. It was sunny and mild outside, but wouldn't be for much longer; the old spot was beckoning to him. They could so easily go back to where they were, sitting outside under the tree and sharing things no one else knew or needed to know. Letting it be just the two of them.

But then…

When Yuri came up to him that first day, so many Mondays ago, she had taken a chance. A step forward, not back.

She could've gone back to where she was. She could've accepted their momentary alliance in Kimito's shop and left it at that. She could've just gone on keeping to herself, and then they never would've been friends.

Instead, she'd reached out to him, and now here they were seven months later. If she wanted to branch out some more, who was he to stop her? It was brave of her to grow as she did, to change before his eyes, to go out on that stage on Saturday. He thought of the hallway outside the drama club, where she'd glowed and preened as a sizable crowd of people congratulated her.

Seeing her there, grinning and confident before an enamored group… it was almost natural.

But was it worth another 45 minutes with the fools he was already shackled to?

He found Yuri in the hall by the vending machine. She handed him a thing of almond crush pocky – his favorite – and eyed him expectantly. An obvious bribe, the temptress…

"Fine," he said with a sigh, taking the snack and digging into it. "Take me to your idiots."

"That's the spirit," Yuri said joyfully, looping her arm through his and tugging him towards the cafeteria. The pocky almost spilled in her fervor.

Their alone time for now would have to be reserved for their walk to school, and he would take that. Maybe they could bring back nightly walkie talkie conversations if need be.

For now, as long as Yuri was branching out, he might as well go along for the ride.

* * *

"Whoa, look who's here!" crowed Hejjiguchi when they arrived at the table, as if he hadn't _just_ seen him five minutes ago.

He was seated next to Ami at the end of the table, with Masuda on her other side. There were two open chairs next to Kurimu, who'd positioned her seat in a way that let her be across from Ami and Hejjiguchi at the same time.

Kurimu turned around to look, juice straw between her teeth. It fell out in surprise, giving her the freedom to beam at them.

"You brought Naoi!" she said, happily dumbfounded, like this was an incredible feat and Yuri might as well be showing her a ball of fire she'd conjured in the palm of her hand.

"It's not a problem, right?" Yuri slid into the spot next to her, graciously saving him from a possible lunch-long staring contest with Ami.

"Not at all," said Ami, as Ayato joined Yuri at the table in the seat across from Masuda. She added sadly, with a little pout, "Now that you two are friends again, I wasn't sure you'd be sitting with us anymore. That's why I asked a few minutes ago." She gestured at him. "So this is what you meant by 'we'll see.'"

He closed his eyes – for Yuri's sake he was going to behave himself, but he wasn't about to gloss over the fact that he was very put-upon by the circumstances. "I suppose we'll just have to share her from now on."

"I'm just happy you two are friends again," Kurimu said blithely, sipping away at her juice. "You were so sad without each other."

Yuri immediately became fascinated with her lunch, while Ayato cut his eyes to the side and felt his face grow warm. Did the girl have to be so blunt about it? Also, he hadn't really been _that_ obvious. Had he?

When he looked back up, Masuda gave him a knowing grin. He glared back, regretting his seating choice already.

Kurimu started to color in her sketchbook – did she always bring that thing to lunch? – but thought better of it. Brightening, she turned aside to them (holding an orange colored pencil in midair) and added, "I still can't believe you stood up for her like that!"

"You heard about that?" Ayato frowned down the table at her, feeling a little like an eccentric art piece on display.

"Ami told us!" Kurimu said glibly, still smiling.

What? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Ami Kawata, passing on some positive information about him? That was interesting.

Masuda picked at his lunch thoughtfully. "Hard not to overhear, besides."

"Yeah." Hejjiguchi, who was leaning back in his chair, casually nodded towards Yuri. "Everybody's talking about how Hisakawa went off on you."

"Oh, great." Yuri smiled tightly. She took an aggressive bite out of some broccoli.

Ayato shot him an unimpressed look over the top of his drink. Didn't he have any sense of decorum? Why would Yuri want to be reminded of Saturday's incident, let alone know it was Akuma High's hot gossip? Thoughtless idiot.

Ami seemed to share his sentiment, and elbowed Hejjiguchi in the arm. "Souma-kun!"

"What?" he said, shrugging. Ami looked helplessly to Masuda before sending Yuri an apologetic wince. Hejjiguchi still didn't clue in, and went on, "It's kinda weird, though. Did she really scream at you? I can't picture it. She's always seemed pretty chill." His eyes crinkled in deep consideration, and he gave another shrug. "Intense? Sure. But not 'yelling' intense—"

"Stop talking," Ayato said severely. Hejjiguchi threw him a miffed look but obeyed.

Good boy. Maybe he should give him a treat? His fingers briefly grazed the pack of almond crush pocky.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I know her a little better than you," Yuri told him – more nicely than Ayato would've delivered it, but her tone was still crisp enough to get the point across. "And I don't want to get into this."

"That's fair," Masuda said on Hejjiguchi's behalf. "I admit, I'm still curious about the situation. But we shouldn't pry."

"What? What kind of talk is that?" Hejjiguchi peered behind Ami's back to throw Masuda a look. "Aren't you studying to be a private investigator or something? Detective?"

"Shell out the money first; I don't snoop for free," Masuda said loftily, and bit into an apple. Ami and Yuri shared an amused half-smile across the table.

At first, Ayato eyed the three of them with slight suspicion. The drama club members, of course – did they already have inside jokes? It seemed like there was more to Ami's smile, something he was being left out of.

He shook his head of the thought. He was reading too much into things again. On second thought it read simply as a special smile between girls. Besides that, they could _have_ their own secrets and shared looks. But her most important truths, she'd already entrusted to him.

"If she says she doesn't want to get into it, just drop it," Ayato said importantly, with a wave of his hand. He enjoyed the sudden silence that had befallen the cafeteria. It might've been coincidental but it was certainly a power trip. So were the gradual attentive expressions that had crossed Hejjiguchi's, Ami's, and Masuda's faces. "It's in her past. Hisakawa is behind her now."

Hejjiguchi lifted his head, along with his piqued brows.

"No kidding," he said with a grin, nodding over Kurimu's shoulder. "Speak of the devil."

Yuri tensed in her seat, crunching her fist around her drink can. Nicely, Ayato checked over his shoulder for her in time to see Hisakawa coming towards their table in long strides. She stopped at the end of their table, hovering between Hejjiguchi and Kurimu and looking distinctly like a confused swan. Her gaze swept over the table, taking in her audience, before her eyes settled on a target.

"I just want to say," Hisakawa started, very begrudgingly Ayato might add, and cast a dour glance over her shoulder at someone before continuing, "I'm sorry for yelling at you in the hall. And for making a big scene."

Yuri sipped her drink very loudly. She attempted to make eye contact with anyone else, but it was difficult when most of their group was looking back and forth expectantly between the two former friends.

Hisakawa heaved a sigh. She took a sparkly silver-and-turquoise clip from her hair and clicked at it restlessly.

"I," she said, and closed her eyes for three seconds. _Click-click, click-click, click-click._ And yet Ayato could still hear Yuri grinding her teeth. "I was so busy yapping at you that I forgot to say… well done on the play. You were really good." She flashed a wry grin. "Should've known you had a flair for drama."

Unimpressed, Yuri flicked a brief glimpse at the sparkle in Hisakawa's hands. "Unless you're about to pick a lock with that thing, put it back in your hair."

Hisakawa paused, regarding the clip thoughtfully. Then she clicked it twice more for good measure before snapping it back into place. Although he smirked at the childish pettiness, Ayato silently wondered who taught whom how to pick locks.

Probably Yuri, if either of them. That was the feeling that he got.

Seeing that she was getting nowhere with Yuri, Hisakawa turned and nodded in Ami's direction. "Seriously though, it was a great story. I liked Hanazawa a lot as a character, and the disembodied voice guy gave me chills."

"Thank you," Masuda said leisurely, conjuring up said voice, and Hisakawa looked at him with interest.

"Hm," she said, mildly impressed. Then she tapped Kurimu's sketchbook, briefly admiring some patterns she'd drawn, before flashing a cool smile. "Well, later."

Kurimu preened a little bit after the girl had gone. She remembered who she was sitting next to, though, and gave a demure cough.

"She seems kind of nice," she said innocently. "All she did was come over, apologize, and compliment the play."

Ayato rolled his eyes. He recognized that tone from his mother – the lilt of hopeful reconciliation. The wholehearted hope that bygones could be bygones and they could all hug it out as good friends. She was probably mentally planning a flower crown for the girl at this very moment.

"And hit on Masuda," he added for derailment's sake. The interaction between the two had been oddly funny to him.

Ami threw him a weird look, like he'd answered a math problem horrendously wrong. "Don't be silly, she wasn't hitting on him!" she said. A ruffled Masuda frowned at the indignation in her voice, wondering if he should be offended.

Ayato didn't care for her snooty tone either, or the way she'd said it like he was an idiot.

"What was that about?" he challenged. Just because he had to share Yuri with her now didn't mean he was going to sit here and be disrespected!

"I think what Ami means is that she was just being nice," Kurimu said quickly, although he'd seen her blink her own confusion at Ami a moment ago. Then she seemed to remember something, and added, "And Hisakawa doesn't flirt."

"Well," Ami amended, "she flirts, she just doesn't date."

"Why not?" Masuda asked, sounding curious. Ami's chopsticks halted in mid-air and she side-eyed him in a suspicious bewilderment.

Hejjiguchi grinned, waving his juice around leisurely. "She's a free spirit! Like me."

Ami stopped mouthing something to Yuri (who'd shaken her head and kept picking at her food in disinterest) and turned to Hejjiguchi with more incredulity. "No, she's a _commitment-phobe_ like you." She elbowed him in the arm.

"Heh," said Hejjiguchi, rubbing where she'd hit him. He and Kurimu shared a secret glance.

Right. So that was still going on while Ami was blissfully unaware, which was – well, just about as interesting as this conversation. Ayato turned to Yuri, who was still picking at her food and pulling a bored face. Considering the topic at hand, she had to be even more annoyed than he was.

Leaning to his left, he muttered aside to her, "Are you sure you want to sit with these people?"

"You started it," Yuri said, miffed.

Hejjiguchi, who'd been jabbering back-and-forth with Ami, nodded over at them with expectant curiosity. "Yuri, you know her better than we do. Which is it?"

Yuri rolled her eyes, but looked considering for a moment. Maybe she was thinking the same thing as him: _hey, whatever would shut them up._

"A bit of both, honestly," she told them. And then, with a derisive, knowing half-smile, "She thinks boyfriends turn into husbands who might want to keep her from doing her dream job."

"EMT, right? A first responder?" Masuda inquired. When Ami gave him a frosty stare, he held up his hands in surrender. "What? I'm going into the police force. Our paths are occasionally going to cross."

"I thought she wanted to work at her family's aquarium," said Kurimu, starting to trace happy starfish on her paper.

Hejjiguchi shrugged. "She changed her mind last year. Now—"

"Don't you all have _anything_ better to discuss?" Ayato interrupted. The awkward looks he got in return were nothing compared to the range of expressions he'd witnessed on Yuri's face in the last minute. An old wound had reopened and he would not have these idiots poking needles into it. "Listen to you, you sound like you've got shrines built for her in your closets. Show some discretion!"

Frowning, Hejjiguchi started to open his mouth. But Ami held up a hand to stop him.

"He's right," she said, to Ayato's surprise. "We're being rude to Yuri. It's disloyal."

Kurimu and Masuda immediately looked apologetic, while a sheepish Hejjiguchi scratched at his hair. As they changed the subject to other things, like the parent meeting and the end-of-term exam, he begrudgingly came to an unsettling conclusion: Ami wasn't all that bad. At least when it came to Yuri. And she did have a real knack for scolding her group into a reasonable quiet, which was… useful.

He glanced at Yuri out of the corner of his eye. She had relaxed by now, and was joking with Ami and Masuda (something about the latter's roommate going to the parent meeting disguised as his mother). Hejjiguchi reverted to a less annoying state, drawing orca whales and seagulls on Kurimu's sketchbook to go with her starfish. He even came up with the not entirely brainless suggestion that Yuri come eat in their classroom with them if they wanted to have a study session this month.

And while Yuri, Masuda, and Kurimu dragged him into the conversation from time to time, he was strangely… perfectly content to kick back and watch Yuri command the table as she did. Her eyes took on a special gleam that captured the table's attention, her tone cool and knowing with the occasional passionate quiver that made each word sound important.

How had someone so powerful ever gotten so lost? This was where she belonged. Wherever that strength took her, he'd follow if he could. Even here, with Hejjiguchi giving him a stupid grin while waggling his eyebrows in her direction.

Though… sitting here with all of them, it felt like it could be almost normal. It wasn't perfect, comfortably familiar in a not quite right way like a couch instead of a bed. But it was good, and he could even get used to it.

For Yuri, he would branch out too.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Okay, too much chatter about Hisakawa. But I bet Yuri would agree, which, hey, is kinda the point! Also, let me just end with the cheese factory joke Hejj told (even though I doubt it translates into Japanese the same) (let's just call it the cheesy English dub version, yeah?)**

" **There was an explosion at the cheese factory! De brie went everywhere."**

 **(Yep. Definitely an English dub joke.)**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Hey, tell me a joke."_

" _Is your dad always so mean to you?"_

" _I don't see myself ever leaving this business."_

" _Have you been slacking off?!"_

" _Everyone just focuses on the negative."_

" _Better start giving me ideas!"_

" _Why are you making such a big deal over this?"_

[Chapter 33]: **Coming Closer** **.**


	33. Coming Closer

**A/N: Welcome back! To a _possibly_ (somewhat) monthly update of TPS. I say this because Chapter 34 is a Christmassy December chapter and thus will probably be out around Christmas. I need to set aside _Wrecked_ for like two seconds so I can write the preview quotes at the end. Honestly, it's almost always the case where you burn out before the best chapter. Thanks to all new follows and faves, and to Zain for the review! Expect more tight knit group bonding ahead. And I think you're spot-on about Hisakawa there. She's the Wendy of this series, after all! Classic sassy cryptid.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 33]: Coming Closer_

* * *

The rest of November was little more than an adjustment period.

End-of-term exams were in early December, so Yuri took Hejjiguchi up on his offer and joined them all in their classroom for lunch the next Monday. Talk of the Hisakawa hallway incident was beginning to die down, yes, but she enjoyed the privacy of an empty classroom. Said it felt like a hideout, or their secret headquarters or something. The feeling was "oddly specific" according to Hejjiguchi, but in a weird way Ayato knew what she meant.

In close quarters, even silent studying meant "bonding time" with this group. Ami was making a great show of implying she'd welcomed him into their fold (though in his opinion, it was very much the other way around). She even invited him to celebrate Hejjiguchi's birthday that was coming up on the 23rd. He told her, not too rudely to give himself credit, that he would probably be working.

"Your pop runs you on a tight shift, huh?" Hejjiguchi had said, and made a whip-cracking gesture and sound for good measure.

Ayato had looked at him dully, deciding to hold his tongue on his apt description. "Pretty much."

But also Yuri had glared daggers at Hejjiguchi for it, which was cute. He particularly enjoyed Hejjiguchi's high-pitched "what?!" and bug eyes before he went back to studying math with Masuda. Yuri's glower could put the fear of God into a man. His theory was that they could see their reflection in her eyes and watch themselves burn in green fire. The thought made him smile behind his schoolbooks.

Their group lunch period did get more tolerable as the days passed, as long as Yuri acted as his buffer. The troublesome trio was used to each other, as were he and Yuri, so many times it could've passed as the groups merely neighboring each other (featuring Masuda as the fence). Kurimu would draw up learning visuals that Masuda and Ami would admire while Hejjiguchi conspired to turn it into a comic. Hejjiguchi would try to distract the girls with corny jokes while Masuda desperately worked to ground them and get them back on track.

Meanwhile, Yuri sat closest to Ayato and collaborated with him to color-code notes. He would steal her coffee when she got too focused and see how long it took for her to notice. Sometimes he'd poke her with a pencil to remind her that lunch was also a period for _eating_.

But he couldn't always have her as a reliable safety net. One afternoon she left to visit the vending machine, and mentions of drinks made Ami realize she had go to the bathroom. Kurimu went with her in honor of the buddy system because apparently that was what girls did. And of course all of this had to happen on a day when Masuda was sick at home.

So he was left alone with Hejjiguchi, who apparently had a grand idea for simultaneously filling silence and breaking the ice.

"Hey, tell me a joke."

Ayato peered at him over the top of his book. "I'm not here to entertain you," he'd warned.

But Hejjiguchi had prodded him some more. "Seriously! Tell me your best joke." (To Ayato, this sounded a bit contradictory.) He'd insisted that "everyone's got at least one."

And he wouldn't shut up for three minutes, so finally he regaled the damn idiot with the only one that came to mind. The one that went, " _A man is washing his car with his son. After a while, the son says, 'Dad can we use the sponge now?'"_

It took Hejjiguchi a moment, first to realize he'd caved and then to let it process in his brain. His eyes bugged in that ridiculous way and he snorted with laughter, cracking up into his fist. "That's a great mental picture," he said after a few seconds, shaking his head and chuckling some more.

Ayato didn't like the effort it took to keep his smirk from turning into a pleased grin. Maybe it was the power trip? The guy was such a simpleton it made him easy to amuse.

He could appreciate that.

* * *

The Saturday of the parent meeting came around and Ayato was honestly glad to be at the shop with Kimito for most of the day. Just for that one reason.

He didn't know what went on at a hogoshakai, but the thought of his father going to one and having one or two things to say made him distinctly more uncomfortable than hurting his back stocking shelves. And then, his rational side knew he was doing well in most subjects, but he still knew Kimito was highly unlikely to take pride in anything a teacher had to say about him.

Kimito truly did not care, as long as he wasn't making a fool of himself in public and he didn't become a grade repeater. So he just didn't go. To him, it was like Ayato going to university – not worth his time.

Although the fall festival fever customers had trailed off, the traffic picked back up again almost immediately with early Christmas shoppers. He could smell the crispness of December in the air already. It also helped that it was getting dark earlier and earlier. Whenever he mopped by the window, he could see colorful lights strung up in the trees and buildings. He didn't get a lot of time to linger, but sometimes he glanced over the customers' shoulders while he rang up their sake sets and candy dishes. The glimmer of green, red, and gold sparked a resurgence of energy that usually got him through the rest of the day.

On the other hand, his father wasn't quite as festive. He called him into the back room during a lull and screamed at him for not re-tying a bag of clay tightly enough. Now it was too stiff to work with, and Kimito would have to poke it with holes and leave it in water for a day or two until it was moist again. And it was all thanks to Ayato's thoughtlessness! He'd smacked him in the back of the head, hoping to "jostle something back into place."

Someone sneezed in the store area. Kimito frowned at the disturbance and headed towards the back door.

"Go get that," he rasped. His voice was hoarse from yelling. "I need to run back to the workshop."

Ayato headed down the short hallway and turned into the front room, rubbing the place where he'd been hit. Standing by an aisle of kitchenware was none other than Kurimu, who was fishing through her bag for something. She looked up when she heard him coming.

"Uh… welcome to the store," he said out of policy, in case Kimito was still within earshot. "Can I help you with something?"

Kurimu nodded, pulling out a small bottle and clasping her hands bashfully.

"I thought that maybe, with Souma-kun's birthday coming up and all, I could get him something nice," she said with a smile, a faint blush on her round cheeks. "Like a vase, or cup, or bowl. And I could paint something special on it for him. Do you have…?" She trailed off, looking at him oddly.

Ayato frowned a little. "Unpainted ceramics? I'll show you where."

"Thanks!" she burbled. And then, as he was about to lead her down the aisle, "Oh, hang on."

When he glanced over his shoulder, she'd snapped open the lid of the bottle, which he now noticed was hand sanitizer. She smiled sheepishly when he caught her rubbing it into her hands.

"I tend to get sick the most in winter," she explained. "My immune system isn't my dearest friend, so I don't take any chances."

"Good idea," Ayato said, thinking of the little coughing kids who tried to put their mouths on tea cups.

He meandered through the aisles, Kurimu making one or two bunny-like sneezes behind him.

"I think it's too late," he said absently.

Kurimu gave an embarrassed giggle. "Luckily my mom makes the very best chicken soup!" she said cheerfully.

He didn't respond, chancing a slight glimpse at her out of the corner of his eye. Going from Kimito to Kurimu's unbridled optimism in a matter of minutes was physically unsettling. They stopped at a shelf of dishware that she could easily use for a canvas. He gestured toward the cups in particular, and she picked one up and turned it delicately in her hands.

He thought his work there was done, until her features twisted into an expression of uncertainty. She looked at him with troubled eyes, face pink with a struggle she seemed to be holding back.

Unnerved, he shifted his weight, unsure of her mood swing. "Is there something—"

"Is your dad always so mean to you?" she blurted in a rush.

Ayato blinked twice, taken aback by her outburst. "You didn't know he was like that?" he asked, a little dumbfounded.

Kurimu, who'd put down the cup, was wringing her hands at him with sad eyes.

"I knew he was scary," she said mournfully. "My mom knows people's hearts. She says his aura is dark, she says your mom's is damaged and he probably doesn't treat her very well." He tried not to scoff at this. "But I didn't think… and then I heard him yelling at you back there! That's so sad, Naoi!"

"It's nothing new," he said awkwardly, nervous at the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

"But you're always working!" Kurimu squeaked. She trembled with emotional energy. "Do you even like this job? I help Mom run her business too, I love the bakery and I'm going to take over when I'm older. Because I want to! But if Mom ever yelled at me like that…"

She looked fearful all of a sudden. He had a feeling her mother had never yelled at her in her entire life.

"What about your father, he doesn't raise his voice from time to time?" he asked, idly moving some plates around on the shelf.

Kurimu bit her lip softly.

"I never knew him," she said, turning to the cups again. "He died before I was born. It's always been my mother and me."

"I'm sorry." He was making her cry all over the place today, wasn't he…

"No, don't be." She smiled wistfully at him. "I've always been so envious of people who have fathers. Ami's dad is so funny! I just… I need to remember that I've got my mother, and she loves me and protects me. And we get paid to decorate cakes together. I'm lucky."

He narrowed his eyes a little, feeling uncomfortably pitied. "Good for you."

Realizing, Kurimu made a tiny squeak of a gasp and clapped both hands over her mouth.

"Oh!" she yelped. "I didn't mean! Um!"

She was such a strange girl. "Don't worry about it," he said gruffly.

Kurimu still looked upset. "To think… you work so hard here, and we caused you so much trouble at school," she said. "I wish you could just come work at the bakery instead."

Ayato actually found himself laughing at the thought. Kneading dough every day instead of wedging clay, ovens instead of kilns… Kurimu was such a dreamer.

"That'll be the day," he said, still chuckling.

"My mother would love to have you," Kurimu insisted, and he had to bite his tongue from laughing even harder. Her fairy godmother complex was worse than Yuri's!

But she looked so earnest that, out of mild guilt, he let it die off.

"I don't see myself ever leaving this business, Kurimu," he told her. _I don't see him ever letting me._ "But… thanks for the offer."

She nodded, managing a smile. They spent the next ten minutes or so on Hejjiguchi's gift, her babbling happily about her ideas on what to paint (he truly had not needed to know that his favorite colors were split between red, blue, and gold) and what else she might get him (no, Kimito did not sell ceramic guitar picks).

Ayato would later remember this as the day he accidentally became friends with Kurimu Aoki.

* * *

At dusk, when the November evening had darkened but the sky was still blue enough that the Christmas lights fuzzed in his vision, Ayato locked up the store behind him and headed home with Kimito for dinner. It had been a long day, but… not a bad one. Not entirely.

He took in the crisp leafy scent of the forest as they walked, occasionally getting small glimpses over his shoulder at the glittering town they were leaving behind. Kimito had to yell at him to keep up. Ayato didn't know what he was complaining about – he was never out of the old man's shadow.

When Kimito opened the front door, the house was warm and smelled of soup. Chicken, maybe? But whatever it was, it wasn't on the table yet. Kimito scowled his disapproval and stalked toward the kitchen with Ayato in tow.

"Did you get home late?" he demanded, towering in the doorway and watching his wife scurry around. Ayato piqued an eyebrow – home late from what?

"No, no. I'm sorry for holding up dinner," Mother said, her head bowed over the stove. "It's ready, I'll just be a moment—"

Kimito gave Ayato a quick shove into the kitchen. "Help your mother set the table."

He did as ordered, even though he thought Kimito believed it to be women's work. Perhaps that was the point.

During dinner, the woman was unusually quiet. Of course it wasn't uncommon that she remained completely silent at the table, having learned long ago that her husband didn't work well with small talk. This silence was heavier, though, and it seemed to weigh down on her shoulders. Even her sips and eating utensils made little noise. At times, she just stared thoughtfully into her bowl with a tiny frown.

Eventually her ruffled demeanor caught Kimito's eye, and he squinted at her in suspicion.

"Ayame," he said, making her jolt. And Ayato too – it wasn't often the man used his wife's name. Too intimate. "What's the meaning of this? What are you so unhappy about?"

Her gaze fell into her bowl once more. "The hogoshakai – I don't want to attend it again. I didn't like it at all."

Ayato stared in disbelief. She went to—?

"Did his teacher have something to say about him?" Kimito growled, interrupting his thoughts with flared nostrils and an accusatory glare. "Have you been slacking off, Ayato?!"

"No!" his mother said quickly, cutting short the life montage that flashed before his eyes. "No, he's doing very well. He's studying hard."

"Then what?" Kimito looked impatient, gripping his water glass. "Why did I have to wait on dinner?"

She frowned down at the table, loose hairs from her bun falling in front of her eyes.

"Do you know what goes on at a hogoshakai?" she said, herding a few carrots and peas into her soup spoon. "All the parents do there is talk badly about their children. Everyone just focuses on the negative."

Kimito grunted, a noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

"Is that a problem?" He took a scornful gulp of water. "Doesn't sound so hard – it's not like he's anything to brag about."

"Then…" Mother frowned some more, wrinkling her forehead, and dared to look up at him. "Maybe… it would have been better if you had gone?"

He slammed his hand on the table, throwing a glare so sharp it could've stabbed her.

"You can't do this one thing while I'm working?!" he snarled. "Now I see where he gets his uselessness! Are you honestly so—"

Ayato was able to sneak off and put away his dishes while the man spiraled into one of his tirades. He found a thermos in one of the cabinets and crept upstairs into his room with seconds.

As he closed the door behind him, a part of him felt remorse for leaving her alone down there to bear the brunt. After all, the argument was… about her not wanting to criticize her son. She had gone to the parent meeting, and she hadn't wanted to say a bad word against him.

He thought of Kurimu, and her mother, and sipped pensively at his thermos of soup.

He wouldn't call himself lucky, but that was… something.

It was something.

* * *

November faded out with a flourish of studying, with Ami leading the charge in a frenzied state.

Type A time bomb indeed. Final exams were not a good look for the girl. Unlike Yuri's endearing growls of frustration and lip-biting and adjusting of her reading glasses (which had made their reappearance), Ami squawked and hovered over shoulders like a parrot, and shredded her erasers into nubs. A lot of the shrapnel ended up on his pages, which he'd flick back at her. She sent him deadly looks for that.

Once, she'd caught Hejjiguchi with his nose buried questionably deep into the book he was holding up – and she swooped in and plucked the manga he'd hidden between the pages. Then she'd rolled it up and started battering the poor idiot over the head, yowling at him, "This! Is not! A textbook!"

Yuri and Ayato had roared with laughter. That is, until the latter recognized it as the volume of _Kamisama Suzuko_ he'd gotten from the school festival and justly began to protest the bending of it.

"Sorry!" Kurimu said, while Hejjiguchi was smoothing out his hair. "I found it under my desk, and I guess I put it on Souma-kun's."

"And I thought it looked interesting, so…" Hejjiguchi shrugged. "I'm halfway through, so do ya mind if I borrow it?"

He considered for a moment. "Fine, whatever. That's your belated birthday present then."

"Thanks," Hejjiguchi said, beaming at him.

Ayato made a face.

"Disgusting," he said, turning to Ami. "Hit him again."

She complied, which Yuri and Ayato found hilarious, so it quickly turned into a cherished inside joke. At any time, if either of them was holding something (be it a jacket or a bag of snacks, or his manga once he got it back), there was always a chance that the other would randomly grab it out of their hands and smack them around with it, bellowing at the top of their lungs, "THIS! IS NOT! A TEXTBOOK!"

Which got them some looks in the hallways for sure, but he and Yuri came to find that they didn't mind very much. It certainly eased some of the tension of the upcoming final exams week.

December crept in, and cold rain and end-of-term exams followed. Ayato had to admit that the group studying had paid off. They laughed off the stress in the cafeteria during lunch, Yuri regaling them with a dream she had of students' chairs blasting into the air. Ayato almost fell out of his seat cackling with glee at the splendid mental image of Hejjiguchi's head going through the ceiling tiles.

Only a couple more weeks with these hopeless goons. He might be calling them that by habit at this point, since the only one who truly annoyed him at this point was Hejjiguchi. Even Ami minded herself, not even hogging Yuri very much! Sometimes she scribbled hearts on Kurimu's sketchbook, or cooed at Hejjiguchi that his next guitar project should be a love song, or asked Masuda if his roommate was still under that sugar ban. Apparently he had willingly invited her into his house at one point and Hachihama had gotten too overstimulated and broken a ceiling fan. Ami thought he was cute. ("Spend 24 hours with him," Masuda had said tiredly.)

Ayato thought back to summer, and Hachihama's stunt at the pool. Perhaps Masuda was more than qualified for this group's friendship.

As the day for the term's closing ceremony closed in on them, Kurimu happily brought each and every conversation back to Christmas. Her mother made the best Christmas cake in Japan, she told the table, and Hejjiguchi and Ami readily nodded their agreement. They were all sharing their plans for the holidays, Ami dropping anvil-sized hints about how romantic Christmas dates could be, when Masuda abruptly realized Yuri and Ayato had not offered their own input.

"What about you two? Anything special?" he asked.

Yuri stared blankly for a moment, then slapped her drink on the counter in realization.

"Wait a damn minute," she said, turning in her seat to look at him. "Ayato, isn't your birthday on the 17th?"

"Yes," he said dryly. "Should I have sent out the invitations? It's going to be a big bash."

"You—" Yuri face-palmed with a groan of dismay. "I should've started a list a _week_ ago! Damn it!"

"A list for what?"

"Gift ideas, genius! What do you want?!"

Ayato gawped at her, not exactly taking very well to being put on the spot like this. "I don't know!" he said, frustrated. "I don't really get gifts!"

From across the table, Kurimu gasped and wilted against Ami as if this was the most devastating news she'd ever heard.

"No gifts…?" she repeated weakly, gripping her chest. "Not even a little bit?"

Not even a little bit. If anything, Kimito just bought more paint and glaze and clay, which was really for work. Or for himself. The man didn't even know what he liked. Neither did he for that matter. Except books, maybe.

"Not really," he said. Hejjiguchi frowned at him in an annoying way, and he debated kicking him in the shin.

Yuri frowned at him too, but in a way that was less pitying and more… pleasantly ominous.

"You're getting something this year," she said decisively, turning back to her lunch and popping a cherry tomato in her mouth. "Better start giving me ideas."

"You don't have to do that," he argued. "What ever happened to 'your presence is enough'?"

"Never mind that!" Her eyes took on that severe, obstinate glint where she was beyond backing down. "Come on, just tell me. Anything you want."

Hejjiguchi's eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead.

"Anything?" he repeated, flashing a cheeky grin. Masuda, who had gotten out his phone a moment ago without anyone noticing, casually tapped a button that played funky jazz music.

Yuri gasped, cheeks ablaze with fury, and Hejjiguchi yelped in pain as she delivered a kick hard enough to jostle the table.

"Why don't you kick Masuda?" he complained. "He played the music!"

"Can't reach," Yuri said sweetly.

Ayato grinned at her, filled with a warm pride. As far as gifts went, that was a fairly good start.

* * *

The con was that Yuri didn't let up on it. The pro? She passed up on drama club for a few days to walk home with him so she could badger him some more.

Well, it had been about that. At first.

"Wow," she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her as the outside air attacked her with a gust of cold wind. She gazed out at the muted grey clouds blanketing the town before them. "Akuma gets… _so_ beautiful this time of year."

He snorted with laughter. Although he did admire the slivers of desaturated gold peeking through the grey, winter clouds were never as flattering as those of a storm. "We're lucky it's starting to get darker earlier, so we can see more of the stars." He gestured grandly to the sky.

Yuri smiled, even more so when her shoe crunched a leaf into oblivion in passing.

"It's dark by the time drama club lets out. So I get to see stars then." She glanced around musingly as they walked through the school gates into town. "And the Christmas lights at their finest."

"Sounds like the best time to walk home," Ayato considered, a little jealous.

She hummed in vague agreement.

"It's alright," she said, and moved closer to him on their way across the street. "Could be better."

"Miss me?" he teased, side-eyeing her with a knowing grin.

"Of course I do."

He felt a little cocky about that, shifting his schoolbag strap on his shoulder as his grin broadened. "Well, Ami will just have to miss you for now."

Yuri shrugged. "She's going to walk home with Masuda instead. She'll be fine."

Interesting, he mused to himself. Brow furrowed, he turned to Yuri after they'd hopped up onto a curb. "Do you think…?"

"Yeah," she said without hesitation. "He does, at least."

Ayato nodded pensively, allowing this new information to ruminate in his head for a moment. "Can we stay out of it this time?"

"At all costs." They stopped briefly in front of the florist's to shake on it.

The trek home went on like things used to be. Just the two of them – just talking. He'd missed this, and admitted as such. She grazed his shoulder and cast him an acceptably contrite glance.

"If it makes you feel any better," she told him, "we might not be doing drama club as much next school year. Gotta study for those entrance exams, you know?"

Well, he didn't know, at least not in the same way she and Ami did. Those were for getting into universities, which didn't quite apply to him. But hearing it did make him feel cheered. And then slightly guilty. "You were enjoying it, though."

"I enjoy the people." Yuri ran her hand along a Christmas-decorated pole as she passed it. "It's nice to work with them, to be part of a team. Feels like…" She paused, closing her eyes in thought. "Well, it feels good, I guess. To be surrounded every day by a lot of people who love each other."

He could understand that. She deserved to have it every day of her life, but yes, their final year of senior high was only four months away. And entrance exams were in little more than a year. Though he still didn't even know what her goal was afterwards – especially if she was so absolutely fine with sacrificing her theatre arts time.

Perhaps he shouldn't worry about that. She'd figure herself out – it was her strategically chaotic way.

They entered the forest after a time, just as a wintry evening darkness was seeping into the clouds, and Yuri stared wistfully over her shoulder before following him onto the dirt trail.

"It really is beautiful, though," she said, tightening her jacket again. "Do your parents decorate at all? Or is your dad…" She trailed off, not really needing to say much else after mention of Kimito.

"My mother does a little." He thought back to the years when Hayato was alive; there had certainly been Christmas trees more often back then. "Greenery, candles, pictures of family. She tries to make the house smell nice. But when I'm not with Kimito in the studio or the shop, I'm usually in my room trying to keep away from him. So I don't get to appreciate it much."

It was sad, now that he thought about it. He really did love the smell of pine, spice, and berries. He would bathe in it if he could.

Yuri exhaled a puff of cold air. "My parents go all out," she said. "Granted, they'll usually still be busy with work. But they're really festive. They love karaoke – lucky for me they're good singers." Ayato snickered appreciatively. "It's their way of apologizing in advance before they go out on their big Christmas date night. Huge sparkly tree, streamers and art everywhere, plus a nice rich Christmas cake and a bunch of chicken."

She kicked a stray branch off the path.

"What they don't realize is, they're still baking and buying the same amount every year." She added, with rolled eyes and an affected sigh, "Used to have Shion and Ajisai there to help me make a dent in it. Now my parents are just trying to make me fat."

He did a quick once-over of her small form, hidden underneath the jacket, and smirked a little. "It's perfectly natural. They're only trying to help their child survive the winter." Yuri frowned then, slowing her pace as she cut her eyes to the side. When his brain played it back to him, he swore under his breath. "That—that was not supposed to—that was in bad taste—"

"It's fine, I knew what you meant," she said, and gave him a little jab in the side. "But I'll feel better if you let me shower you with birthday gifts."

"Why are you making such a big deal over this?" he asked, squinting at her. Truth be told, the enthusiasm was foreign to him.

"Someone's got to!" Yuri said impatiently. "Besides, I already know you'd do the same for me."

Then she gave him a look, and he couldn't very well challenge it. He had done the same, he'd tried to and failed, and she'd ended up being the one to treat him. And now she was trying to do it again. But he knew there was no stopping her.

"Fine, whatever," Ayato said after a beat. "But I told you, I don't know what I want. You're going to have to think of something yourself."

She groaned then, possibly just realizing what she had gotten herself into, and kicked at the dirt.

"Man! Boys are so hard to shop for!"

"Should've thought of that before you promised me presents," he said haughtily, and tapped the top of her hair. "You're smart. You like missions. Use that pretty little head of yours and figure me out."

"Oh, I will," she said resolutely, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You just wait."

He tapped his wristwatch at her mockingly, she made a decidedly rude gesture back at him, and they parted ways at the bridge. But just before he returned to the trail, he glanced over his shoulder and watched until Yuri disappeared beyond the trees.

 _Operation start_ , he thought with a smirk. Then he shook his head and headed toward the Naoi estate.

* * *

 **A/N: I could continue the chapter, but it's kinda long already…** _ **so**_ **feel free to scheme up birthday presents right along with Yuri. And honestly? I'm so glad this chapter is pulling things back into a better pace. October was SEVEN CHAPTERS LONG. One month, seven chapters? I can't afford this story to be THAT much slow-burn. Seriously, I might have to do a time jump or two at some point.**

 **Until next time!**

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _Happy birthday, Ayato!"_

" _We were supposed to wait until lunch!"_

" _You're smothering me, wench."_

" _I didn't know how else to make today special."_

" _They're secondhand friends."_

" _Are you doing okay?"_

" _I don't want that."_

" _It's just different between us somehow."_

[Chapter 34]: **Blessings.**


	34. Blessings

**A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Here's that TPS chapter I promised. I miss updating weekly, but I accidentally fell in love with writing an _Ever After_ AU so apparently that's happening now. Expect it sometime in very early 2019.**

 **Anyways, thanks for the new follow and review! Zain, love that you caught the episode 5 reference! I think you'll like what happens with the group this chapter. As for the "operation start" line, hm, it seems Naoi is adopting some of Yuri's phrases! Common thing to do with a _loved one,_ so I've heard (which makes me love their "Fine, whatever"s in canon that much more).**

 **I'm posting this early for season's reasons. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 34]: Blessings_

* * *

December was a bad month for a potter to have a birthday.

December meant shopping – for Christmas, for Oseibo, and for New Year's. Around this time of year, the flood of customers intensified. People came in for their cookie jars, their sake sets, their vases and tea pots. Ultimately, when it came down to it, Ayato would spend most of the time that month making and selling gifts for someone else. This was not new.

So to him, the 17th was just the last Friday before the closing ceremony. The last Friday he'd spend with Yuri before Kimito dragged him into the shop full-time for the winter rush.

At least it would only be a couple of weeks this time. That thought got him out of bed early, and lessened the effects of his mother's sad smile as she served him breakfast. Every year without fail, the exact same pinched smile, the exact same demure lilt of a "happy birthday." He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than his father not saying anything.

To his credit, Ayato did remember the man muttering, "Never had birthdays when I was growing up," even back when they'd celebrated with Hayato. The December after they lost him, his mother had been too upset to push the matter – and thus the birthday hype died with him.

Kimito shoved him out of the workshop a couple of minutes earlier than usual, which Ayato accepted passively as a meager birthday present. He trotted down the path, finishing off a crisp apple, until he came to the fork where Yuri was just arriving. She broke into a little jog when she spotted him.

"Good morning! Happy birthday, Ayato!" she said brightly.

He blinked at her; she'd obviously had her morning dose of caffeine. "You're oddly cheerful for someone who forgot to get me a present," he teased, taking another judgmental bite of fruit.

Yuri scoffed as she slid her backpack off her shoulders. "Stupid, I wouldn't carry it out in the open for it to get stolen." She unzipped the bag and fished around in it. He heard paper crinkling inside and eyed it with mild curiosity.

Triumphantly, she procured a colorfully wrapped package and plopped it into his hands. The weight of it surprised him, it was rectangular and book-sized but felt slightly heavier than expected. He stared doubtfully at the gift, weighing it in his hands. Did she want him to open it now, or—

"C'mon!" Yuri said impatiently. "Half the fun of gift-giving is the reaction. Don't hold out on me."

He rolled his eyes, but tore carefully at the paper. Despite Yuri's pained look, the wrapping looked too pristine and respectable to ruin. Various shades of green and shimmering gold with tiny red flowers mixed in. Once unsheathed of its shell, which he handed to Yuri, he was holding a spiral-bound wooden sketchbook. Painted dark green, his name had been carved into the cover: _直井_ _文人_ _._

 _Ayato Naoi._

Tracing the grooves, he took more than a moment to admire the cover. It had an earthy elegance, which he could appreciate, but it was the engraving that threatened to steal his breath. It made it that much more… personal.

He looked up at Yuri, whose grin had carved even deeper into her cheeks.

"Open it," she urged him.

Snorting at her enthusiasm, he obeyed. The entire first page had already been christened with a loving ink-stained message: _THIS! IS NOT! A TEXTBOOK!_ He laughed and shook his head at her. "Probably shouldn't beat anyone with this."

She beamed, obviously very pleased with her joke.

"I know you're not as art-obsessed as Kurimu," she said with a shrug. "But you've mentioned at least once that you used to like to draw." She mellowed a little, looking unsure. "And since you notice details a lot, and you like the outdoors, I thought…"

"Thanks." He honestly didn't know what else to say. Whatever he was feeling, it was so foreign to him. He couldn't understand why; it wasn't the first time Yuri had _done_ something for him. He flipped through the pages, restless. "This is…"

There was another flash of black and white as something slid out from between two pages. What was it, a bookmark? They both made a sound of protest when it fluttered to the ground. Balancing the book in his arm, he went to pick it up just as Yuri did. He pulled away when their fingers brushed.

"My bad, I thought it'd be safe in there," Yuri said, handing it to him.

He took it, eyeing it for a moment before giving her a questioning look. "A pinwheel?"

Yuri shuffled a bit. "Well, you made me something. I thought it was only fair that one of my gifts was something I made." She flicked absently at the black and white petals. "Besides, remember when we agreed you'd make a good hypnotist?"

He pointed the pinwheel at her, holding it in front of her eyes. The wind wasn't strong today so he gave it another flick. "Is it working?"

Yuri stared blankly at it. "Oh yes," she said in a sarcastic monotone voice. "I'll do everything you say."

"I like the sound of that," Ayato told her.

Cheeks going an interesting shade of puce, she batted indignantly at him. "Shut up!"

They had to be getting to school soon, so he opened his bag and started to put the sketchbook away. Then he frowned in concern at the pinwheel in his hand. She'd made this for him? It was simple but well-crafted, and he didn't want it to get ruined in his backpack.

"Where should I put this?" he wondered aloud to her. "I don't know if it's safe in here, it could get crumpled."

"It should be safe in the sketchbook," Yuri reasoned, then rubbed her chin as she reconsidered. "Wait, but then it could fall out again. Just—hey, come with me!"

He barely had enough time to pick up his bag before Yuri grabbed his wrist and pulled him down a certain path. She didn't stop at the bridge, but instead led him underneath, their shoes squishing faintly in the silt of the riverbank. Then she held out her hand, a puzzled Ayato let the pinwheel drop into her open palm, and she fixed the pinwheel horizontally into a nook of the bridge. After adjusting it as one would tighten a hair bow, she set her hands on her hips.

"There!" She turned to him with a nod. "A little incentive for you to come back here later, so I can give you your other gift."

"You—" Ayato squinted at her in disbelief. "What other gift? You've already given me two!"

Yuri just shrugged.

"Come on." She gave his sleeve a quick leading tug before she started up the incline towards the trail. "We're going to be late for school."

"Yuri!"

"I didn't bring it with me!" she said impatiently. "It's kind of big. You wouldn't want to haul it around the entire school day."

That wasn't the issue! Unbelievable, this woman!

He sighed, zipped up his backpack, and followed her onto the trail. The " _operation start!"_ from last week rang tauntingly in his head.

Honestly? He should have known better than to challenge her.

* * *

At school, the other four crowded him with birthday greetings. Hejjiguchi tried to sing at him; Ayato had to beg him not to. While Kurimu and Ami comforted the boy's poor ego, Masuda plopped a gift onto his desk that turned out to be another volume of _Kamisama Suzuko_.

"Ami and I stopped by the bookstore on our way home the other day," Masuda explained. "We knew you were enjoying the series."

"We were supposed to wait until lunch!" Kurimu squeaked in dismay, while Hejjiguchi looked wildly jealous behind her.

Ayato, bewildered by the gesture, felt even more confused at Kurimu's protests. "What's at lunch?"

"Nothing!" Kurimu squeaked again, at the same time that Hejjiguchi said, "Stuff."

How contradictory. He scratched his head after they went to their seats. But admittedly, he was content to read off and on for a few class sessions. Masuda was right to give it to him early.

At lunch, Hejjiguchi tossed him a thing of almond crush pocky from the vending machine; he deemed it an acceptable offering. "And you lived?" he asked in mock wonder, which earned him an eye roll and a sarcastic chuckle.

Ever so chipper, Kurimu made a grand show of handing him a package. He narrowed his eyes at her, then at Yuri, who looked fairly interested in the exchange. He paused, suspicious, then unraveled it. A bag of plastic yellow pieces.

"Glow in the dark stars!" Kurimu said in great joy, clasping her hands together. "They stick on the walls and your ceiling and make your room look like a universe."

Ayato shook the bag contemplatively. Save for some bookshelves, his walls _were_ rather bare…

"Yuri mentioned you liked looking at the stars," Kurimu continued, and Hejjiguchi and Ami gave her weird looks for some reason. "She thought—"

"Eh!" Yuri yelped through her teeth.

Kurimu squeaked back, slapping a hand over her mouth like she'd said something she shouldn't have.

He might not have caught on before, but the wave of embarrassment between the two girls was damning enough to make his brain go into analytical mode. Three seconds and the truth hit him.

"You!" He turned to Yuri, aghast, and frowned heavily at her. "You _told_ them to get me gifts?"

"Don't get mad at me!" she said, aggrieved. "I couldn't decide what not to get you!"

"You—what?!" He didn't know whether to feel amused, patronized, or just plain overwhelmed by all this. How many was it going to be now, six? Six gifts?!

"Hey, we all agreed that you getting zero gifts wasn't cool," said Hejjiguchi.

Yuri added, "And I _knew_ you wouldn't let me give you a bunch."

"So we really wanted to help out," Ami chirped, with Masuda giving a decisive nod alongside her.

"If it helps, she just talked over the ideas with us. We bought the gifts ourselves."

"Because we wanted to," Kurimu finished.

He frowned at all of them, still wary, eyes narrowed into slits. They had known each other for a long time, but by his standards they had only been friends – close acquaintances, allies? — for a month. Maybe a month and a half. Why were they buying him gifts? Why were they like this?

God, the things she got him into…

Finally, he leaned back in his seat with closed eyes and a vanquished sigh. "You're smothering me, wench."

She lightly elbowed his arm. "Pinwheels and stars, Ayato. It's not like I bought you a house."

He opened one eye. "But you told me you had something big and you were going to give it to me later," he reminded her. Hejjiguchi looked wildly interested, as did some students passing their table.

"It's the last one, I promise," Yuri said, and aimed a withering look at Masuda. "And enough with the pervert music!"

Masuda took his finger off the button and slid his phone aside, sufficiently chastised.

* * *

Yuri and Ayato walked home together after school, but of course she didn't have the gift on her and he didn't have time to drop by her house. They agreed to arrange for a later meeting via walkie talkie.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. He ran the store, swept the front and back room, mixed glazes, and helped with painting. The whole time, as he'd done every year, Kimito kept to himself and restrained his tongue as well as his hand. He did, however, occasionally strike other things (e.g., the wall, the edge of the sink, the counter) to let him know how much he _wanted_ to hit him. Otherwise, the man communicated in detached grunts and growls until their shift was over and it was time to close up for dinner.

His mother had potato korokke and a small cake waiting for him, which was nice. She didn't sing. They just didn't do that in this family. Not that he minded. He finished eating and began to ask if anything needed done in the workshop this evening, but was stopped by Kimito's exasperated voice.

"Just stay out of my way tonight," the man said gruffly. He got up from the table and headed outside.

Ayato took that as his cue to be dismissed from the table as well. He took to his room and quietly contacted Yuri while Kimito was in the workshop. When his father came back in, he read _Kamisama Suzuko_ until his parents' bedroom door closed and the light turned off. All in all, one of his better birthdays.

As soon as the snoring sounds poured into the hall, he crept carefully downstairs in the darkness and snuck out the back door.

Yuri, as promised, was waiting for him under the bridge and flicking at the pinwheel. Though he couldn't see the effect in all the surrounding darkness, he could hear the whirr of the petals spinning. They slowed to a stop as Yuri left her post to approach him, hands behind her back.

"Last one," she promised again. "Like I said, it's not a house. It just couldn't fit in my backpack with everything else."

She revealed the mystery gift – a table-top Christmas tree adorned with strands of lights and fake baubles. Upon request, he pressed a button on the tree-stand. The lights came alive with color.

"Battery operated," she explained when he turned his gaze back to her. "Now when you're holed up in your room, at least it's festive."

"Six presents, Yuri."

"Three," she said, crossing her arms.

He weighed the tree in his palms, privately marveling at the way it lit up their secluded spot with a warm glow. The crystal star at the top reflected in Yuri's eyes, a powerful sparkle that made him soften a bit.

"Fine, three," he amended. "And you got the others to do the rest."

"Because they _like_ you, stupid." Yuri's pursed lips curved up in faint amusement. "Haven't you noticed?"

Ayato sighed, shifting the tree under his arm.

"Still… three presents, really?" He felt overwhelmed just saying it. "That alone is… it's too much. If you remember, I didn't even get you one."

Yuri cut her gaze to the side, watching the pinwheel pick up and wrapping her arms tightly around herself for warmth.

"You got me exactly what I wanted," she said quietly. "We've been over that."

He moved past her to retrieve the pinwheel from its nook, sticking it in his front pocket. "And if my father sees all these gifts, where do I tell him they came from?"

The question stung her like a nettle; she turned to him, eyebrows piqued in an embarrassed epiphany.

"I didn't think of that." All resolve faded from her eyes, along with any remaining traces of a grin. She knew as well as he did that he still wanted to keep Kimito out of their business. "If you said you bought them yourself—"

"He'd certainly have something to say about me wasting my money," said Ayato.

Yuri nodded. "So it's a good thing that _Kurimu_ and _Masuda_ bought everything at a reasonable price," she said slyly, "and you made the pinwheel yourself."

He scoffed at her attempt at subtlety. "Whatever you say."

"I mean they're not that hard to make. I used to do a million of them…"

Her voice got quiet after that and trailed off, fading into the thrum of river water beside them. She leaned against the bridge siding and crossed her arms again, digging at the silt with the toe of her shoe.

"Sorry, I… I didn't mean to make anything weird for you," she said, making him look up at her in surprise. "I just… didn't know how else to make today special. It's not fair that you don't get anything good. And I love giving gifts, I don't care about _getting_ them. It's been a while since I've gone all out like that for anyone. I guess I missed it so much I overdid it a little." She added again, more sheepishly, "Sorry."

It was the second "sorry" that snapped something into place. The uncharacteristic meekness in her voice… He studied her face in disbelief, completely thrown. Was he really standing here making her apologize for giving him gifts on his birthday? Apparently he could never be polite or kind about anything at all. This was why he wasn't fully buying the part about the others liking him.

He set the Christmas tree down carefully on the silt and walked over to her. He decided against lifting her chin with a finger, though her chin looked oddly small and tiltable, and touched her shoulder instead.

"Yuri. Thank you," he said, when she met his eyes. "I'm the one being rude. It's just a shock to my system – I'm not used to anything like this."

Her features smoothed out in understanding. "I know," she said loftily. "I'm kind of trying to change that."

He laughed at that, which made Yuri smile again, and he found himself smiling back.

"Well, happy birthday," she said, and pulled him into a hug goodbye. Her tight embrace tucked him into the crook of her shoulder, embalming him in the scent of coffee and cinnamon. He frowned as she shifted slightly to hug him closer.

Had her hair always smelled of pomegranates—?

She startled a bit, breaking into his thoughts with a coy snicker. "Um, what is that?"

"It's the pinwheel!" he insisted, mortified.

Yuri laughed some more.

* * *

They made the most of the next week together, and then on Wednesday school let out for winter break. Students piled out of the gymnasium after the end ceremony, and there was an interesting blend of classes out on the campus. Ayato took immense pleasure from Ami trying to call out "Text me later!" to Yuri, only to be interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from Shiruba, whom she accidentally smacked in the face upon turning around while still waving her cell phone about. Hejjiguchi and Nezumi cracked up simultaneously, and exchanged an almost brotherly bonding nod afterwards.

This was the type of entertainment Ayato would be deprived of for a couple of weeks. He was almost disappointed about it.

Instead, he spent his hours at the store with people who thought he might know what gifts their relatives would want for the holidays. Stocking, restocking, dusting and disinfecting, keeping children who were dragged in by their parents from knocking over figurines. The number of times a child tried to make a ceramic kitten pounce off the shelf was more than zero. A mother, who had left her daughter unattended to admire teapots, came back to yell at her while Ayato stood around awkwardly trying to rearrange the display. Why did people even have kids?

The days got darker as his work hours got longer. During lulls, if his father wasn't at the store, he'd lean his elbows on the counter and stare out the windows at the winks of color amongst the seasonal black. Or, if he was feeling especially daring, he'd go ahead and click on the TV.

Near the end of November Kimito had gotten himself a gift in the form of a small ceiling TV installed in the corner of the front room. It allowed him to check weather emergencies and, during long work days, not have to wait until he got home to gripe about the news. Ayato was expected to leave it alone and not waste time or electricity. However, his mother wasn't the only one who was average at hiding things. Two days into winter break, he scoured the workplace for the remote and discovered its hiding place wedged between a fire extinguisher and a cabinet. Which was how he found himself, on Christmas evening, channel-surfing until he came upon a news station broadcasting a festively lit Shibuya.

Downtown Main Street was alive on Christmas, crowded with couples and shoppers and all sorts of merriment. It was flurrying there; even on the small screen, he could see the specks flying past the camera and landing on people's coats. The trees that the crowds were passing by seemed to have more golden lights in their branches than they'd ever had leaves.

He was a little envious. Of the snow, of the cold puff of breath coming from the reporter, of the thousands of lights and people behind her. Families passed too, happy ones. A mother and father swinging their son by the arms. An orange-haired guy with his silver-haired date, a small girl on his back that he thought at first must be their daughter until he realized the two were his age. Just a big brother giving his sister a piggyback ride, which for some reason made him feel kind of sad.

And then, a few minutes later, a shot of a pink-haired girl trying to do the same thing to her blue-haired date, shopping bags dangling from her arms. The boyfriend staggered and almost fell over, still on camera, which made Ayato happy again for whatever reason.

The news panned to the Christmas tree in the center of town. It towered over the city, looking magnificent when filmed from above. The structure reminded him of his desk ornament at home, save for the crystal angel topper. Silver wings, just like the play from almost two months ago. And something else he couldn't quite place—

"Pretty, huh?"

Ayato jumped and turned off the TV in the same millisecond. His shoulders relaxed when the voice registered as feminine, but his heart gave another jolt when he recognized who it belonged to. "Yuri!"

"Hey, I was watching that!" She did a careful scan of the store, biting back a smile as she tried to look casual. "Is your dad around?"

"No," he assured her, and she relaxed too. "Believe it or not, he's out on a date with my mother."

Her eyes bugged a little – understandable, really.

"Him too?" she said in disbelief, leaning against the counter. "Geez. Everyone's going on dates today."

"Most romantic time of the year," he scoffed, quoting his mother.

"So I've heard." Yuri rolled her eyes with a sigh. She looked over her shoulder at him then, and managed a halfhearted grin. "Merry Christmas, by the way. How's your break been so far?"

"Dismal, until you showed up." He returned the grin, coming around the counter to perch next to her. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd have plans."

Yuri leaned back on the palms of her hands. "Funny story, actually," she said. "So as you'd imagine, our favorite couple wants to be alone together today. And _apparently_ they both had the idea to get another guy to distract Ami. Except they forgot to agree on one." Her face split into a cheeky grin. "So Shiruba and Masuda asked her at the same time, and now they've got this weird rivalry going on. And meanwhile Ami's invited me and Jinko along because she thinks this whole thing is a friendly hangout." She shook her head, laughing to herself. "You can't make this stuff up!"

Ayato shook his head too, grateful that winter vacation allowed him to opt out of this high school drama. And yet, his curiosity continued to be the bane of his existence. "What about the lovebirds? Isn't she curious what her other friends are up to?"

"Well, Kurimu told the truth – she was going to dinner. And Hejjiguchi…" Yuri grinned, still chuckling under her breath. "Hejjiguchi told Ami he wanted to go on a run, and also that she'd have to choose between him and shopping."

"Oh." He snickered into his fist – both at Hejjiguchi's decorum and Ami's likely explosive reaction.

"Yeah, she told me he'd better run after that." Yuri looked happy, possibly at the wonderful mental picture. "But anyway, I just thought I'd drop by. Pretend to be browsing if I had to. You want any Christmas cake? We're going to get some later, I can bring you a piece."

He considered. "Not from the Aoki bakery, I hope."

"Hm?"

"Ami would see her mother working and wonder who Kurimu went to dinner with," Ayato reminded her.

Yuri looked distressed.

"Shit! I didn't think of that!" she said, slapping herself in the forehead. Her features crinkled in mild annoyance, and she exhaled sharply through her nose. "They need to let her know soon. Masuda and I can't cover their asses forever, and… I don't like lying to Ami."

"Really? I don't mind it," said Ayato, still privately thinking that Ami didn't need to know everything. Yuri snorted a little.

"You really still don't like them, do you?" she said, crossing her arms at him. She leaned slightly and elbowed him in the rib, smirking. "Although at this point, isn't it just a little bit performative?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You call them a bunch of imbeciles, but it's almost like it's a habit for you. Empty words." She nudged him again. "Are you sure you haven't warmed up to them? I know you like Kurimu and Masuda. And I don't know about you, but Ami's said nicer things about you since the festival."

It _was_ a habit for him. The derogation slipped so easily from his mouth, it felt natural. The funny thing was, now that she mentioned it, he didn't hold a strong resentment to any of them. He just wasn't attached. But still he made his snide remarks on autopilot, as if from some primal instinct.

Oh God, was it hereditary? He didn't want to think about that.

So he harrumphed, and said, "Masuda and Kurimu are close acquaintances, I only tolerate Ami, and Hejjiguchi's basically a pet. You know that I'm only sitting with them for your sake. They're secondhand friends."

Yuri eyed him like she wasn't sure whether to be amused or offended. "Secondhand friends?"

"Watered down, off-brand, not a great fit?" Ayato shrugged. "Not sure what it is. The type of friends you lose touch with after graduation."

Her mouth pursed into a thin line, and twitched at the corner. "That's mean," she said doubtfully, biting her lip. "You're saying they're just burner friends? Disposable?"

And, well, he couldn't tell by the odd face she'd pulled if she was thinking hard or just scrutinizing him, so he squinted at her in defense. "I should think of all people, you'd be the last to judge."

"I'm not, I—" She paused, pushing herself off the counter and turning to face him. "Wait a minute, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at her. "Some friends just drift away."

Yuri frowned at him, then down at the floor, tightening her arms around herself. Somehow he could sense she was thinking of the same thing he was. The same moment from earlier this month.

* * *

They'd gone to the vending machine together, but Ayato decided he was also thirsty and headed for the water fountain down the other hall. But just as he was rounding the corner, he accidentally tripped over something on the ground. Turned out it was a small slumbering yellow-haired girl, who wasn't sleeping anymore. She screamed and he screamed too, and she jumped up and hid behind the wall in disoriented fear.

He'd gotten annoyed at her cowering ("What? I'm not going to hurt you"), she hollered at him for kicking her, he reminded her she'd been lying on the ground. In the midst of defending her apparent right to fall asleep on the floor, she'd stopped and recognized him as "Yuri's friend," the one who yelled at Hisakawa. He was reminding the girl that Hisakawa had started it, and that was when Yuri came up behind him with her drink.

"Saki," she said, wary but not unkind.

Saki side-stepped so that half of her emerged from behind the wall. "Hi, Yuri." Her voice was very fitting for her – small and childish.

"Did you take a nap on the floor again?" Yuri asked knowingly.

"I was tired."

"You're still staying up all night reading those conspiracy stories, aren't you…"

"No!" Saki quaked underneath Yuri's authoritative staredown. She wrung her hands a little, wide-eyed. "But my house is _haunted_ again, Yuri! I can feel the miasma in my bathroom! Chitose says—"

She stopped, blushed, wrung her hands some more.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you."

"You're not a bother," Yuri said, quiet but firm. Something like sadness flickered on her face. "But Ayato and I have to get back to lunch."

"Yes. Well, good seeing you." Saki rocked on her heels awkwardly. She studied Ayato, not even noticing Yuri's polite nod to her, and he felt her eyes still fixed on him as they were walking away. Then, "Yuri, do you still—" A cough. "Are you… are you doing okay?"

Yuri slowed to a halt, not turning around. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to be silently counting.

"I'm okay, Saki," she said. Then she nudged Ayato and kept walking, with a small wave thrown behind her. "Do yourself a favor and lighten up on those stories, alright?"

"You don't know about the shadows!" Saki cried out behind them. "If they get too powerful they'll drag everyone to the depths!"

"I believe you," Ayato said nicely from the other end of the hall.

Then there'd been the sound of a small body hitting the ground, followed by delicate whistling snores.

* * *

Of that entire exchange, Ayato specifically remembered the crushing ambivalence that had briefly contorted her features as she talked to Saki. It was that same look he was seeing now. A look of division, and muted pain – but pain nonetheless.

"Do you really think that?" Yuri asked, just as quiet as she'd been that day. She chewed her lip again. "I don't want that."

He looked at her, hearing sadness and a sort of longing. A longing for something he couldn't pinpoint. And yet the feeling resonated with him in a way he couldn't find the words to describe.

"Not for you," he assured her, feeling bad for bringing up the past the way he did. "I'm just being cynical again, I guess."

Still, his point remained. She'd cut some fairly strong ties in her time, surely she could understand. These things just happened in life. Connections could snap like twigs, or tree branches under a child's weight. Lives ended, changed, got busy. Graduation was over a year from now so he wasn't about to mourn anything just yet.

Yuri stood there in front of him, arms folded, mouth pursed to go with her indeterminable stare.

Finally, she spoke. "You don't… you don't think that would happen to _us_ , do you?"

He startled somewhat, lifting his head and blinking at her.

"Of course not!" he said, launching himself off the counter in a haste. "You and I… It's different. It's just different between us somehow."

"Damn right it is," said Yuri, more boldly now as she stepped toward him. "If you think you can shake me off after graduation you've got another thing coming. You were stuck with me the moment you cut my finger."

He laughed at her, mock-indignant. " _I_ cut your finger?"

"An artist puts himself into his own creations," Yuri told him very seriously. He fought a strong, playful urge to tug at a strand of her hair.

"It should be because I mended your finger, you masochist. No wonder you hang out with me," he snorted, and Yuri shoved him with a laugh. "But the solidarity is appreciated, as always."

Yuri beamed at him. _She has a very pretty smile_ , he mused absently, and wondered where the thought had come from. She smirked and grinned a lot but it wasn't like he'd never seen her smile before. Maybe it was the lighting – fluorescent lamps and Christmas lights illuminating her cheekbones while they battled winter darkness. He was just glad to see it after almost killing the mood for a second there.

They kept chatting for a couple more minutes until Ami, being Ami, texted her asking when she was going to rejoin the fun. So Yuri wished him another Merry Christmas and ducked out to meet the group by the stationary store. At one point he could see and hear her outside across the street with everyone when he went outside to get a breath of cool air. Glowing under colored tinsel-wrapped lampposts, she laughed merrily with Jinko and Masuda as a Shiruba on a distracted rant conked face-first into a pole.

Although her spirit vanished from the store, its lingering effects kept a slight smile on his face. And then, with the echoes of the group's laughter in his head, piece-by-piece it began to fade.

 _You don't think that would happen to us, do you?_

 _Of course not! It's just different between us somehow._

Realistically speaking, he wondered just how true that was. Yuri was brilliant despite her wandering interests. She would eventually find a path and follow it, and possibly even go to the same university as their schoolmates – her friends. She'd develop an even stronger bond with the so-called off-brand friends. And he would be here, working with Kimito full-time. Just a remnant of her hometown in Akuma.

Not that he blamed her. To escape from this godforsaken town – it was like a dream. A fate he would certainly wish upon anyone.

Ayato worked well into Christmas night, and made it through the rest of winter break. He scribbled nonsensically in his sketchbook at the end of bad days. He bought more books and _Kamisama Suzuko_ volumes during a lunch break, and read them by Christmas tree light at his desk. At nights after Kimito went to bed, he talked quietly to Yuri over their radios.

For New Year's, lying in his bed to rest off dinner, he stared up at the glowing plastic stars on his ceiling. And he made another 2011 wish, the same one he'd prayed for earlier that day at the shrine.

 _Please,_ he prayed, his last thought before drifting off to sleep that night. _If I can have only one good thing in this year, in this life…_

 _Let me keep her._

* * *

 **Preview:**

 _"We'll be needing that back."_

 _"It looks so cozy and romantic..."_

 _"Aren't school trips compulsory?"_

 _"I'm not going to hide away."_

 _"Yuri would be much happier if you came with us."_

 _"You aren't going to pull anything, are you?"_

 _"I didn't say that!"_

 _"What are you talking about?!"_

[Chapter 35]: **Talking in Code.**


	35. Talking in Code

**A/N: Hey AB section! Publishing this today because I have a thing for coinciding dates. Though I doubt I'll get to a certain important scene by February 9th (but that's quitter's talk). Thanks to ZainR and Cha0T1cPeace for the reviews!**

 **ZainR:** **Gentler for _him,_ that's for sure! Some teeny part of him is a father after all (or, at least Hayato's father). As for the little group, Naoi and Yuri already have a bond carved into their souls, but can they ever have the same connection with the Akuma kids? Time will tell... But the Shibuya thing! You're asking the real questions. :D Hinata and Yui appeared minutes after, but what if they saw each other fleetingly? There's a fanfic idea for ya.  
Cha0T1cPeace: I know what you mean with the hectic holidays! Just glad you're still enjoying the ride :D That's _exactly_ what Kimito is, the hibernating little beast... Ooh, but I think I have a wonderful idea of what wakes him. ** **( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) In the meantime, enjoy being lulled into a false sense of tranquility like Naoi - and more random AB cameos ahead!**

 **Happy belated New Years, and enjoy!**

* * *

 _[Chapter 35]: Talking in Code_

* * *

In the middle of a half-full cafeteria, Ayato Naoi contentedly perused the pages of his latest _Kamisama Suzuko_ volume while absently picking at his lunch. His classmates' mindless chatter coming from all around him provided an excellent white noise that he was only glad to make use of for the time being.

It was early January, so school was back in session. For Ayato, of course it could not have come soon enough and he was glad to be out from his father's watchful eye. But work and chores had gotten in his way last night and this morning while he was trying to complete volume four, and was it really too much to ask that he at least finish one more chapter?

He was almost done by lunchtime, and was committed to putting it down at the chapter break – even as tempting as it was to finish it all in one go. In his defense, Yuri had started talking to Ami as soon as she sat down, and the rest of the table seemed much more engrossed in discussing whether or not Shiruba was such a bad guy. From what he heard in bits and pieces, Masuda was the only one on the offensive.

"—but he _poisoned_ Horigoshi," he said sternly. "His thoughtlessness could've ruined your play."

"It wasn't poison, Masuda," Yuri teased, and the amusement that seeped into her tone strongly implied he was more than earning his place in drama club. "It was just a little digestive distress."

"The way you say it so casually makes you sound sadistic…"

"And for obvious reasons, I don't hold it against him," Ami chimed in, ever-so-chipper. "Anyway, he wasn't trying to sabotage us. He honestly didn't know. Horigoshi said he never told him about the strawberry thing."

"Takamori is his friend too," offered Kurimu. "She told me he's actually really nice, and he was very embarrassed about the whole thing."

"Plus I asked Nezumi about it once during track, and he assured me—in his words, mind you—that Shiruba's just basically kind of a clueless dorky idiot," said Hejjiguchi. "Don't think he's ever been the type to do anything _that_ sneaky."

Ayato smirked, but didn't correct him. He could easily use this as a way into the conversation, let them know what shady lengths Shiruba would go to for the girl he liked, but he was more interested in reading about the adventures of a young mortal god (or goddess) than he was in incriminating himself.

"Hmph," came Masuda's voice, muttering and distorted. "Trust Nezumi to stick up for his best friend…"

"Best friend? And he would say something so mean?" Kurimu asked, confused.

"It's a guy thing," Hejjiguchi assured her.

The conversation faded away as Ayato directed his attention back to more compelling matters. Much of this volume had been about romance, what with the whole out-of-the-blue pairing of the tengu and the shy girl, and then the god falling in love with her familiar and moping over the rejection. Now things were getting good again, with a dangerous quest back in time to fetch a dragon's eye in trade for his life.

 _About time,_ he thought privately, and turned the page. _Even if she is a matchmaking god. There are far better things to do with her powers than just playing around with love._

He supposed he should've known what he was getting into when he became immersed in a shōjo manga with a female protagonist, but there was something irresistible about the premise. A young mortal being freed of a good-for-nothing father and earning the rights and title of godhood. Forsaking her old life and becoming someone important. Even her supernatural company, ridiculous as the characters may be, was a considerable improvement.

Although, she certainly was going to great lengths to save the person who dropped her off a building when she asked if he found her attractive. Not that he didn't like Tamaki's character. Her loyalty and foolish determination to protect him regardless shouldn't have surprised him anyway.

And yet… Ayato raised an eyebrow as she sacrificed the dragon's eye to heal Tamaki's then lover instead.

Maybe her desire to protect followed her in all paths, not merely for the sake of her own romantic endeavors. What was with that optimism, though? Another woman swallowed the key to saving Tamaki, and Suzuko was still sure they'd find another solution?

Such unfathomable confidence. Such purity. It almost reminded him of—

And then he found himself staring at empty hands as Yuri reached over, snatched the manga right out of his grip, and promptly began her onslaught of swatting at the top of his head. " _THIS – IS NOT – A TEXTBOOK!_ "

Ayato cackled with laughter, deftly dodging her swipes while trying to smooth the muss out of his hair. Yuri's attacks never did any other real damage. Which certainly didn't speak to her full strength; despite his reassurances to her, he could tell she still only ever used up to 40% of it on him. The only thing even slightly paining him at the moment was the look of concern from the girl sitting diagonal from him.

"Is that also friendship-appropriate?" Kurimu whispered fretfully.

Hejjiguchi shrugged, leaning back to side-eye Ami in particular. "Can't be beating him any harder than they're beating that joke."

Both taking offense, Yuri abruptly stopped in mid-swing and Ayato joined her in a simultaneous glare down at the other end of the table. But then a shadow fell over them, followed by a familiar voice.

"Hey, careful!"

There was a swish of paper, and Yuri made a startled sound that turned to offense as she stared at her now empty hand still hanging in the air. Ayato snapped his head around to fix the thief with a scandalized scowl.

"This is a really good manga," Hisakawa insisted, sounding almost protective. She unfurled it from its weaponized state and started thumbing through the pages.

Yuri turned to look at her severely. " _Never_ disarm me," she warned.

Ignoring her, Hisakawa continued to skim. Ayato scoffed at the ease and comfort in which she scoured _his_ copy of the manga. Her flagrant disregard for their boundaries was simply astounding.

"We'll be needing that back," he hinted tersely.

She glanced up briefly in acknowledgement, flicking a downward glance at him, then crisply flipped towards the end of the volume.

"How far have you gotten?" she asked, satisfaction smoothing her features when she stopped on the page she wanted. "I like the stuff about the girl from the familiar's forgotten past. Fumiko's really elegant and mysterious." With that, she dropped the manga unceremoniously on the table. "Must be really sad for lovers to be parted for so long, through time and space."

Yuri snorted derisively, giving Ayato a pointed look before rolling her eyes. He couldn't relate to the look as well as she could, but he knew what it essentially translated to. _Don't acknowledge, don't encourage._

Unfortunately, not everyone present got the message.

"Yeah, I like her too," Hejjiguchi said lazily. "But Suzuko's my favorite. She's got more courage, you know, and a stronger heart. More tenacious and stuff."

"You know, I'm pretty sure they're the same girl from different lifetimes," Hisakawa replied, looking doubtful but considering.

"Starting to look that way, isn't it?" Hejjiguchi agreed, innocently closing his eyes as he dried up his juice with a noisy slurp of his straw. "I've thought so too ever since they found the dragon eye inside her. But still, I think—"

"Hold that thought?" Ayato cut in, raising a finger for silence as he picked up his manga. He furled it slowly and calmly, then reached across the table and rained blows down on Hejjiguchi's vulnerable head, bellowing, "SPOILERS, YOU IDIOT! SPOILERS!"

Yuri and Ami laughed with pure unrepentant glee, a smile even creeping onto Masuda's face while Hejjiguchi tried to shield himself with his arms between squawks of protest.

"Ami bought me some volumes over break!" he yelped. "It's her fault! I couldn't stop myself!"

Hisakawa herself looked rather sheepish as she wandered out from behind their seats and into the open cafeteria aisle. She stopped at the edge of the table and lingered there, hitting Ayato with a mild case of déjà vu from that Monday two months ago. Did she already have an unofficial visiting spot?

"Sorry. I got a little carried away there," she admitted, a genuine note of apology in her tone as she ran a hand through her hair and pushed a lock of it behind her ear. "I just really like—"

"Yeah, yeah, waiting for the one, I'm sure you eat that shit up," Yuri said impatiently. "Did you want something?"

Across the table, Kurimu grew wide-eyed at her hostility and language and glanced worriedly from girl to girl. Hearing her small squeak, Hisakawa regarded her audience for a moment before briefly shooting Yuri an irritated glare.

"I was going to say 'supernatural stories,' but whatever," she corrected, keeping her voice cool. Then she turned her frown into a more casual grin, directed mostly at the troublesome trio. "And I was just wondering if you're all looking forward to the second year trip?"

At this, Yuri glowered even more, and Ayato understood why. The second year trip was a week from today, and second year students would be going up to Shiga Kogen to get a feel for the mountains. Of course Yuri wasn't looking forward to being hauled off to a world of chill and snow.

"Oh, yeah!" Ami perked up, possibly forgetting whose presence she was in. "I've researched the resort we're staying at! It looks so cozy and romantic…"

Masuda and Ayato made the exact same synchronus snort, earning an unfavorable lip curl from Ami.

"I've never gone skiing before, so I'm sure it's going to be a lot of fun!" Kurimu cheered.

"Can't wait," Hejjiguchi said.

Amongst the rabble, Ayato turned back to his food in disinterest as the topic no longer pertained to him. "Probably not going."

This apparently caught Hisakawa off-guard. "Wait, why not?" she demanded, as if his answer offended her.

"Let me guess," said Ami, and she leaned forward to toss a look at Hejjiguchi before the two chorused in a singsong voice, " _working!_ "

"His dad always makes him work," Kurimu explained to Hisakawa sadly, as if his life were a theatrical tragedy or a heartbreaking fairytale to share freely with any person who offered an ear. "He never lets him do anything fun."

Hisakawa beetled her forehead upon hearing this, dubiously disapproving. "That's stupid."

Ayato responded dryly, "I dare you to say that to his face."

"Aren't school trips compulsory?" Hisakawa asked, disregarding Yuri's amused snort. She folded her arms over her chest, giving a decisive nod. "They should be. They're really important for life experience."

He stared blankly at her, unimpressed. _Again, I…_ He shook away the beginnings of the thought, not even bothering to dignify it with a completed mental response.

Annoyingly, Masuda discussed the school's policies with Hisakawa for a good thirty seconds before he finally caught a clue – or Ami's foot knocking against his shin. Third time was the charm; the frustrated " _what"_ followed by an abashed " _o"_ of realization made for an admittedly entertaining exchange. Ayato picked up his manga and buried his face with a huff, trying to restrain a chuckle.

"Well, anyway, hope to see you guys there," Hisakawa said, parting with a dismissive wave. Then she spared a glimpse over her shoulder, sending an eyebrow raise back at the group. "And I do mean all of you!"

Silence blanketed the group ten long seconds after she'd left. When they were sure she was gone, Yuri heaved a sigh, throwing her head back as she draped herself over her chair.

"Why does she keep coming to our table…?" she muttered, rubbing her temples as if the whole thing had given her a headache.

Hejjiguchi beamed boyishly, never a good sign. "Because she _misses_ you!" he crowed, puckering his lips and making awful kissy noises at her.

Yuri's hand fell from her forehead and slapped the table. Moving quickly, she grabbed _Kamisama Suzuko_ for the second time in the last five minutes, launched forward, and smacked Hejjiguchi square in the face. The impact made even Ayato's ears ring, while an offended Hejjiguchi nursed the redness on his face.

Damn. He _knew_ she'd been holding back her true strength. Poor idiot.

"I think that's true, actually," Masuda said, regarding Yuri with a bold calmness and contemplative chin rub. "You sit with us these days, here and out in the open. Now she has an excuse."

"Don't tell her that!" Ami shrilled at him, upset. "She'll go hide away with Naoi again!"

Smirking as soon as he heard it, Ayato turned to Yuri and raised his eyebrows at her in a prompting fashion. Now didn't _that_ sound like a win-win for at least two people involved?

Although… all things considered, the gesture was more of a joke than anything. Come to think of it, it would actually be a bit of a waste. Weeks of exposure had rendered him oddly finally used to this seating arrangement. Would he really want to go back and make it all for nothing?

On the other hand, he missed spending more alone time with Yuri. That concept did appeal to him.

Yuri just studied her lunch, missing his facetious look entirely in favor of a deep thought.

"I'm not going to hide away," she said firmly. With such sincerity that even Hejjiguchi lost his silly wounded grin, and Kurimu's eyes began to water while Masuda and Ami looked deeply touched.

The affected silence got to her. When she raised her head and saw that the mood of the table had sobered, she instantly flashed them a cheeky smile.

"What would we do without your shining faces every day? Ayato would be devastated!"

The group dissolved into laughter after that, himself included. At least they were good sports about it now; he'd give them that much. It was enough to break the tension that remained, and Ami even wisely elected to change the subject. Even if it _was_ more babbling about the school trip.

"—and the lounge, oh, it's got this _amazing_ open fire with cozy chairs and benches…" At first Ami was resting her chin in her hands, lost in a daydreaming state, but then she jolted with pure excitement and jostled Kurimu's arm. "And the hot springs! Ladies, we've _got_ to try the hot springs! And did you know they offer horse-drawn sleigh rides around the resort? It would be so incredible…"

"So how much free time are we going to have during this trip anyway?" Hejjiguchi asked, scratching his head as his brain tried to keep up with Ami's joy. "Do we get to do our own thing or what?"

"They'll have an excursion planned for each day," Masuda told him matter-of-factly, and drew out a meditative pause to finish off his apple juice. "Otherwise, I expect we're supposed to be responsible for ourselves. Perhaps stick to the buddy system at the very least."

Ami lit up as if he'd spoken the magic words.

"Yep! The buddy system!" she echoed, and Ayato could see the hearts glowing in her eyes from all the way on his side of the table. A coy, encouraging smile widened on her lips. "It's the perfect chance for two prospective sweethearts to finally get the alone time they need."

Wait a minute, why was she looking at him when she said that?!

It took a split second of terror gripping at his chest before it occurred to him that he was sitting across from Hejjiguchi and in fact that was the more likely recipient of her lovey-dovey gaze. He had to be misjudging the angle. Still, he and Yuri shared an awkward glance. With Ami blatantly dreaming up romantic scenarios right in front of her secretly involved friends, he could tell by Yuri's pursed lips that it was getting harder for her to hide what she knew.

"I don't know about that," Hejjiguchi said, although he cast a fleeting glance and speedy twitch of a wink in Kurimu's direction. "But I've _gotta_ get in some snowboarding time. Skiing with our class will be cool and all, but those mountains…" He gave a pleasant little shiver, rubbing his hands together. "Never gonna get a better opportunity than this!"

"You're such a boy," Ami sniffed. "You know, forget one-on-one time, you and Kurimu are so _evasive_ sometimes! I mean, you're _you_ ," she said, and then poked Kurimu's arm, "and Kurimu, you sure do keep yourself busy. Entrance exams aren't until next year, silly! You don't have to study so much! Or you can't study with me, I'm not _that_ loud."

Ayato kindly muffled a snort. Yuri elbowed him anyway (but he could swear he caught a smile).

Meanwhile, Kurimu blushed apologetically and clutched at her friend in a desperate half-hug. "I'm sorry, Ami!" she cried. "Let's hang out this week! Maybe a sleepover this weekend? And then we can help each other pack!"

Ami closed her eyes, vaguely appeased. "Alright, but don't think this means anyone here is getting out of group time while we're at Shiga Kogen."

"Except for Naoi," said Hejjiguchi, gesturing across the table at him. He made a face, then, scrunching his nose in a speculative squint. "So wait, would your dad really keep you from going on the trip with everyone?"

"Of course he would," Ayato snorted, his fingers already twitching for the safety of the manga. He wasn't interested in picking this topic back up again.

Hejjiguchi's frown deepened. "But it's for school, though – it's _educational_."

"Oh, please." He waved the comment away with a scoff. "The only reason he even keeps me in school is so he doesn't have 'idiot dropout' attached to the family name. Our agreement that I graduate high school doesn't involve letting them send me off to the mountains to play in the snow."

"But experience is our greatest teacher," Hejjiguchi said firmly. When Ayato and the girls gave him odd looks, he shrugged his defense. "What? Masuda and I have talks sometimes."

His alleged philosophy mentor pursed his lips to quiet a snicker as he gave Hejjiguchi a supportive thumbs up.

Ayato rolled his eyes. "Well, whatever. I imagine he doesn't find skiing or snowboarding or sipping cocoa by the fire to be the type of experience I'll need in life."

Kurimu considered this for a moment, tapping her chin. "But isn't making a snowman sort of like doing pottery?" she asked brilliantly.

"I don't know, Kurimu, why don't we put one in the kiln and find out?"

She seemed surprised at first, and almost troubled as if currently picturing Frosty's horrible demise. Hejjiguchi frowned and looked her over with veiled protectiveness. But then the girl fell into a small giggle fit, relaxing her boyfriend's muscles as he allowed himself a few laughs of his own.

The corner of Ayato's mouth twitched into a half-grin. In all fairness, Hayato had said something similar a long time ago – that snow was just "cold, dusty clay." Maybe Hejjiguchi wasn't the only one philosophizing with Masuda these days.

Actually… Yuri had let him in on the loving couple's little secret, hadn't she? Maybe they knew he knew, and were wrangling the poor bastard into their plight as well. Hence the situation where one of them asked him to distract Ami for Christmas. Ayato's grin widened. As much as he respected Masuda, it would be hilarious if that were true. He hoped it was, if it meant they'd bother Masuda about it and he and Yuri could stay out of the rest of the relationship drama like they promised.

Ami's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Well then, I do hope you're wrong about your dad," she said, with an unearned confidence that made him eye her skeptically. She smiled as if to ease the tension, and nodded in his direction. "I think Yuri would be _much_ _happier_ if you came with us."

Beside him, Yuri frowned deeply and furrowed her eyebrows, possibly at the odd tone Ami had used just now. But more likely because she understood full well the situation with his dad, better than anyone else sitting here. She had better not be planning another operation in that devious little head of hers… It wasn't like she could just march into the shop again like she did last summer and wheedle Kimito into doing things her way. Need he remind her of the "crying wolf" story?

"You aren't going to pull anything, are you?" he asked, just to be sure.

Yuri blinked in shocked innocence, pointing at herself. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you. I know you."

"I'm not going to do anything," she told him plainly.

He could swear his radar was detecting traces of coyness somewhere in her words, but her eyes spoke unwavering matter-of-factness and honesty. Relieved, but to be truthful a little disappointed (he was far too used to her mischief by now), he settled back in his seat.

"Just making sure," he said, eyes still narrowed. And he resumed eating his lunch.

His radar went off again when he got back from throwing away his trash and found the huddled group peering up at him like a bunch of wide-eyed raccoons caught playing in the bin under flashlight.

But knowing them, it was more mindless gossip he didn't care for. The thought strangely put his mind at ease.

Yes. It was probably nothing.

* * *

The week trudged by slowly, as his classmates wrestled the liminal space that was simultaneously the first week back to school and the week before their big skiing trip. It was all the second year students seemed to talk about. Except, mercifully, Ami and Kurimu. If they _were_ talking about it in class, they at least had the decency to pass notes. Ayato was almost impressed.

Still, it was everywhere. On Wednesday morning, as he and Yuri passed the dormant tree and all its former inhabitants on their way into the school, Nezumi had stopped his playful prodding and punching long enough to yell to them, "Hey Nakamura! Naoi! One of you ask Ami to save Shiruba a seat on the bus on Monday!"

"Shut up, idiot!" Shiruba yelled, trying frantically to smooth his silver hair.

"It's a three and a half hour bus ride and he wants to spend all of it with her," Fujimoto said lovingly, while he and Takada simultaneously threw a hand to their foreheads and pretended to swoon against each other.

"I didn't say that! All I asked was what our seating arrangement was going to be. _You_ were the one who brought her up!"

"Did not," Nezumi coughed.

Shiruba shoved at him. "' _Oooh, why, you wanna go sit with your lady love?'_ Maybe I do, at least she's less obnoxious!"

Nezumi clutched his heart in mock-agony. "You hurt me so much sometimes, you know that?"

"Oh, be serious."

"I am! But hey, go ahead, ditch us for your drama queen like you did on Christmas. It's fine. Fujimoto and Takada will sit together and Hirohashi will probably read a book and I'll just wither away from the loneliness of it all."

"Idiot, _you're_ the drama queen…"

"King," Nezumi corrected proudly. "And don't you forget it!"

Ayato and Yuri had simply walked on, deciding to let that situation resolve itself. And yet Yuri did bring it up during lunch, asking who among their little group was going to sit with whom.

"There's six of us, so that should at least make it easier," Ami reasoned.

"Five," he reminded her, popping whatever pink bubble of mindlessness she floated in on.

Ami hesitated, looking surprised at his comment for a second before she nodded vehemently. "Oh, right. Five. Of course, silly me!" she agreed, breaking into a nervous giggle. "Then I guess… oh, no, I don't want anyone to sit alone."

Yuri grinned. "Shiruba can be the sixth," she said teasingly. "He said just this morning that he might like to sit with you."

"Aw. He's sweet," Ami said obliviously, very blithe about it despite Masuda's wary frown across from her. She played with the silver band of her mood ring, humming to herself. "Though I guess we'll just have to see how it all plays out on Monday morning."

"Agreed!" Hejjiguchi and Kurimu said, which Ayato found much too synchronized to be innocent. Shouldn't they be trying not to act like a couple?

 _Not my business,_ he thought, and let the matter drop.

Things were more normal at home. His terms of normal, mind you, but at least it meant less of the excited ski trip chatter. Just awkward silence in the workshop with Kimito, a few jabs and gruff orders here and there before the man went back to run the store. After tidying up the workshop, getting lunch, and doing homework, Ayato would follow for a couple hours of work and more cleaning and stocking shelves.

The store was mercifully but unsurprisingly quiet during that time. Or at least, devoid of overeager high school students.

He supposed his schedule would change next week, seeing as he would probably be home for a few days. Wasn't that right? Nobody had said anything to him about supplementary classes for students who weren't going. It would come as no surprise if Kimito had already gone to the school and clarified some things with the staff, or made specific arrangements like he did for the festival.

Four full extra days with the man. Four days, and Yuri would be over three hours away. Having fun in the mountains with her good friends whose parents believed in "learning from experience."

To hell with the mountains! Life was cold enough to him as it was.

Whatever. They could have their open fire in the lounge; he'd already resigned himself to keeping warm by the heat of the kiln.

But still, when the weekend rolled around and he'd already gotten his mourning out of the way on Friday (much to Yuri's insensitive amusement, although he'd thought he was being subtle), he needed to know what the abnormality of his week off had in store for him. So after closing up on Saturday evening, as he followed Kimito up the path towards the glow of their house, he broke the silence when the thought sprang to mind.

"Just so I know," Ayato mused, pulling his jacket tighter around him when the cold January wind picked up, "what's my schedule for next week?"

Kimito's pace slowed, dirt scuffing underneath his boots. His head turned only slightly, the smallest fraction of acknowledgement.

"What?" he grunted, as if the question was a stupid one. The scoff materialized in the night as a cold puff of air.

Ayato closed his eyes for a moment, internally wrestling his sass into calm submission. "My work schedule. Won't it be different for this upcoming week? I figured you'd adjust it to fit my week off, since—"

"What are you talking about?" Kimito demanded, turning more fully to scowl at him in distaste. "Your school has a trip to the mountains that week!"

"I know that," Ayato replied, trying to even his temper. "That's why—"

"You thought you had an extra week of vacation?" The man gave a rich snort. He whirled around and walked faster past the workshop in a disgruntled haste, motioning firmly for him to keep up. "Don't think I'm just going to pull you out of that!"

Ayato stared. He almost tripped over thin air, then caught himself and hurried to match the man's pace. "But I—"

"What, you don't like school when it makes you put forth some genuine physical effort?! You'd rather hide behind your parents than build some damn character? Tough!" Striding onto the engawa, Kimito threw open the front door with minimal effort. His jaw muscle tensing, he looked over his shoulder and gave Ayato a skeptical once-over.

"You better have a suitcase packed," he added coolly. "I'm not buying one for you."

With that, he disappeared into the house. Leaving the door wide open, Ayato standing in front of it with his mouth fallen slack.

 _What the_ fuck _?!_

* * *

 **A/N: Pardon his language, but seriously…. WHAT. Has Kimito lost his mind? Find out next time on an all new episode of** _ **The Potter's Son!**_

* * *

 **Preview:**

" _What did you_ do _?"_

" _I thought it'd be more fun this way."_

" _Nice save."_

" _Will he ever love me as much as you do?"_

" _I'm not worth that much fuss."_

" _You've only made things worse for yourself!"_

" _No more games."_

[Chapter 36]: **Vacation (All I Ever Wanted).**


End file.
